


When They Think of Me They Think of You

by MusicalLuna



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ficlet Collection, Fluff, M/M, Not Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase Two Compliant, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-09-15 21:26:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 57
Words: 28,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9257972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalLuna/pseuds/MusicalLuna
Summary: A collection of Steve/Tony fics under 1000 words that were originally posted on Tumblr. All fluffy!





	1. Christmas Fluff with a Dash of Tony Angst at the Start

**Author's Note:**

> Tags and any necessary warnings will be in the notes for each ficlet.
> 
> \--
> 
> **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** Christmas, Angsty Tony, Established Relationship

Tony’s never been big on Christmas, maybe because the whole concept of family and togetherness and good cheer is practically shoved down the collective throats of the public every year and his family was never great with either of those concepts, but this year he’d actually been finding himself, horrifyingly, kind of _getting into the spirit,_ god, what even.

Okay, the family thing still isn’t a thing he gets, since everyone related to him by blood has been dead for, y'know, _years,_ but the togetherness thing and the good cheer thing, those’ve gotten a little more appealing and a little less sickening with the Avengers around and—

And Steve.

Been almost a full year now, since they started seeing each other and, really, that’s made all the difference. “Seeing each other” is the most tolerable way Tony can think of to put it, even though that doesn’t really describe what they’ve got going on between them at all, but everything else sounds ridiculous. Half the reason he’d gotten so wrapped up in the whole Christmas she-bang this year was because this would be their first as, as, well, _them._

And then Steve had been sent off by S.H.I.E.L.D. to God-only-knows where, leaving Tony alone in a lavishly decorated penthouse, and now he’s right back where he started: Christmas as a let-down, depressing commercial trash that paints a pretty picture reality never lives up to.

Tony sighs as he steps off the elevator, unwinding a scarf from around his neck and starting to pop free the buttons on his overcoat. He can’t even really believe he let himself get so worked up. He _knows_ better.

The penthouse is dark, except for the massive, fifteen-foot, _live_ Christmas tree he’d gotten shipped in from the countryside because Steve _likes the way they smell—_ god, he’s gone totally off the reservation where Steve’s concerned—sitting in the center of the sunken living room, which is covered in warmly glowing Christmas lights that twinkle off of the entire crate-worth of tinsel hanging from the branches.

About the same time he realizes someone is silhouetted in front of the tree, Tony realizes those lights shouldn’t be on.

Then the figure turns, the cheery glow of the tree illuminating the angles of Steve’s face and Tony’s fingers go slack around his scarf.

Steve smiles and shrugs his shoulders a little bashfully, his hands in his pockets, and says, “Hey, Tony. Miss me?”

Instead of _Oh, god, yes,_ “What the hell are you doing here?” is what Tony blurts. “I thought you were supposed to be gone through New Year’s.”

“I was,” Steve replies. His eyes are gleaming in the tree-light, crinkling at the corners with amusement. “They wanted me to stay. I made a very persuasive argument and they let me go.” Then he sobers and his eyes drop to the floor, his voice softening. “I missed one big date. I wasn’t going to miss another.”

Tony’s breath catches and then he’s crossing the distance between them, hitting Steve’s chest with enough force to rock him back on his heels. He pulls Steve close and Steve’s arms come around him at once, chasing away the lingering cold in his coat. Tony has to strain up on to the tips of his toes to breathe into his mouth, “You— I can’t believe— What the hell you must have said to them— For _me.”_

“For you,” Steve agrees, bringing their foreheads together.

“Merry Christmas to me,” Tony murmurs and warm pleasure burbles up inside him, singing through his veins—every good feeling he’s ever had all at once.

Then Steve kisses him and it feels like the light from the tree is streaming from his very pores.

Maybe this year it’s not going to be such a let-down after all.


	2. At the End of the Day (Steve gets a ride and a kiss and Tony is sappy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** None
> 
>  **Tags:** Kissing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Long Day, Fanart, Domesticity, Established Relationship
> 
> I saw a guy getting picked up by his SO and they proceeded to have the you’re-a-sight-for-sore-eyes domestic make-out and then this ficlet happened and then this art. I haven’t drawn anything like this in literal years. IDEK.

Steve groans as he steps into the limo, and his eyes close for a second as he sinks into the leather seat. He sighs, a low, drawn-out thing, and Tony smiles fondly at him. He waits until Steve has settled in, the rigidity of his soldier’s posture easing into a looser slouch and his eyes reopening, then leans to close the small space between them.

Steve turns to meet him in the middle, lips a little chapped, but yielding, and Tony takes his time, savors the warm contentment seeping out into every limb, the familiarity of Steve’s mouth on his, how happy it makes him just to be together again. It’s not even like it’s been particularly _long_ , he saw Steve this morning, but, _god,_ he can’t get enough.

Each kiss is soft, infinitely tender. Tony soothes away the stresses of the day with gentle pressure, curving his lips around Steve’s. He’d be perfectly delighted to stay this way forever. Eventually though, Steve tilts his cheek into Tony’s, seeking and finding comfort, and he curls his fingers around Tony’s knee, parts their mouths just enough to murmur, “Hi.”

Tony grins and tips his nose up, pressing his grin to Steve’s lips. “Hi, yourself,” he replies without moving away. “Miss me?”

“Mm,” Steve murmurs. Tony moves closer and Steve lowers his head, lets his forehead rest in the crook of Tony’s shoulder.

“That much, huh?”

Steve doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t have to. The unyielding grip of his fingers on Tony’s leg and the way he’s curled himself into Tony says it all.

This is all he needs.


	3. In the Workshop Late at Night, Steve Sleeps on Tony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** None
> 
>  **Tags:** Sleeping!Steve, Touching, Late Night, Super Short, Established Relationship

It’s well past midnight and every light in the workshop is dark. Tony’s still working, but he’d had JARVIS turn the lights off in deference to the sleeping hunk of muscle sprawled across his lap; Steve’s pinned him where he sits on the cot in the corner and left him with just the glow of the tablet propped on his thigh, braced against the wall. Steve’s feet are hanging off the end of the cot—even with his legs bent toward his chest—and he’s got his right hand tucked under Tony’s thigh so his fingers curl around the inside of Tony’s knee, but despite how wildly uncomfortable it must be, he’s knocked out cold. Tony brushes his palm over Steve’s shoulder between tablet gestures, returning again and again for the warmth it leeches into his palm, the steady rise and fall of Steve’s breathing.

Periodically Tony will wince as he switches from a dark program to a light one, creating a sudden flare of light, but Steve sleeps on, oblivious, a small, but growing wet patch forming beneath the corner of his slightly parted lips on Tony’s thigh.


	4. obligatory warm up winterfic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:** None
> 
>  **Tags:** Mild Hypothermia, Blanket!fic, hurt!Tony (sort of), Cuddles, Language, JARVIS, Undressing, Some Mild Sexual Content, Clothes Sharing, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship

“Mister Stark has arrived home, sir,” JARVIS says and Steve immediately looks up from his sketch pad at the tension in the AI’s voice.

“What’s wrong?”

One of the most impressive things about JARVIS is how he can turn a silence into an expression—in this case, a deeply displeased frown. “Sir’s body temperature is down three full degrees, Captain. He is on the brink of hypothermia.”

“ _What_?” Steve says and tosses aside the sketch pad, springing to his feet. Hypothermia _killed_ a handful of men he knew during the war. “Where is he?”

“Coming up the elevator, sir,” JARVIS replies and he sounds mollified by Steve’s outrage.

A moment later the elevator bings softly and the doors slide open. Steve nearly bolts inside when Tony doesn’t immediately emerge, but after several long seconds, he shuffles out, rubbing at one eye with the cuff of a black hoodie he has pulled over his hands.

He’s wearing those ridiculous purple-lensed sunglasses and his nose and cheeks are as vivid pink as they are purple. He’s shivering hard enough Steve can actually see it ripple through him.

“Tony, what were you thinking?” he asks, distressed by the sight.

Tony blinks and looks around, starting a little when he spots Steve. “Oh, hey,” he mumbles. “What was I thinking about what?”

“Going out in these _clothes_ ,” Steve says, reaching to tug on the sleeve of the hoodie. His mouth drops open when he realizes it’s damp under his fingertips. “Tony!”

“What?” Tony says, brow furrowing as true crankiness works its way into his voice.

Steve lays his palms on Tony’s shoulders, even more horrified to discover that he’s _wet_ there. “Are you out of your mind?”

Tony heaves a sigh and shrugs Steve’s hands off. “I’m fine, it’s no big deal. There was just a little slurry on my way back. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

“‘No big deal’, he says,” Steve echoes, a scowl pulling down the corners of his mouth. “ _It is a big damn deal_.” Tony’s trying to shuffle off, presumably to go curl up in a corner somewhere _still wearing the wet clothes_ , but Steve catches him by the shoulder, spinning him back around easily. Tony makes a noise of protest, but it’s weak at best. “No,” Steve says, firming his jaw. “This is _not okay_.”

“So I put the wrong clothes on,” Tony moans. “So what. Just let me go crawl in bed and I’ll be fine, you don’t have to be such a—”

Tony gasps as Steve yanks down the zipper on the hoodie in one swift movement, brushing the hood off of Tony’s head. His hair’s a wreck, damp and half plastered to his head. His ears are even redder than his nose. Steve winces at the sight of them; they probably hurt like a sonuvabitch.

“Do you _mind_?” Tony demands as Steve tugs the hoodie free and drops it on the floor. He finds himself aghast _yet again_ when he discovers that the meagre clothing Tony’s wearing against a New York winter is a damn AC/DC t-shirt and a long-sleeved black cotton undershirt.

“Come on,” Steve growls.

~ * ~

Steve hauls him into the bedroom and then undoes Tony’s belt and jeans with a deftness that would ordinarily send a spike of electricity straight to his groin, but he’s still shivering and the most he can work up is a dull sort of appreciation. Then Steve hauls his pants down around his thighs and pushes him onto the bed. “Take them off.”

The air hitting his damp thighs sends a chill straight to his bones and Tony hunches down. “Steve—”

“Take off the pants, Tony.”

He groans his displeasure, but shivers and pushes them down to his ankles, and then proceeds to spend two full minutes trying clumsily to free his feet from his soaked-through sneakers. Steve finally returns with an armful of clothes and a sigh.

He slips Tony’s shoes off easily, followed by his pants. Tony leans into him, skin rippling in a wave at the heat he can feel emanating from Steve’s shoulder under his cheek. “’m f-freezing, S-Steve,” he mumbles.

Steve sighs again and the warmth of it makes Tony gasp, arching toward him. “I know you are, Tony, I’m trying to fix that.”

“Y'could just hang on to me,” Tony tells him hopefully. Steve huffs.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get there. Arms up.”

Tony lifts them, even though that makes him colder than ever. “Fuck,” he breathes as Steve tugs both shirts over his head, gooseflesh prickling across his skin like little needles. He hears the shirts hit the floor with a _slop_ and curls his arms around his waist again. Steve runs his hands from the band of his boxers down each thigh, then under his ass, and Tony whines because he’s so goddamn cold his balls don’t even want to peek out to investigate.

“Underwear’s dry, it can stay.”

“Lucky I wore some today.”

“Yeah. Lucky,” Steve says. He pulls a pair of thick fuzzy socks onto Tony’s feet, followed by a pair of sweatpants that he leaves with the waist around Tony’s thighs.

He pauses there, a grimace flickering across his face when his eyes go over the arc reactor. Tony looks down and winces, too. The scar tissue is raised in vivid red and white streaks. Steve lays one enormous hand over it very gingerly, then the other, covering the skin on all sides. “It’s like ice,” he murmurs and his brow furrows. “It’ll be okay, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” Tony mumbles, letting his eyes wander anywhere but Steve. “It’ll be fine. Probably better off than me.”

Steve frowns very deeply at that and reluctantly pulls his hands away. “Arms up,” he says.

It’s exhausting to lift them, but Tony does it anyway and Steve threads his arms into the holes of a tank top, then a long-sleeved shirt, and finally a hoodie that’s way too big to be his. “Izzis yours?” he asks and knows the second Steve refuses to meet his gaze that it is.

Steve reaches underneath to pull down each layer. “I thought it might be more comfortable,” he mutters.

“I’m not complaining,” Tony says, and, god, does he love the blush that swells over Steve’s cheeks.

Steve stands and offers him a hand. “Up.”

Tony grins at him like a dope and takes his hand, letting him pull him to his feet and then leaning into his bulk. Even through his clothes, he’s so warm it almost hurts Tony’s face to be this close. Steve slides the sweatpants into place and then lays his palms over Tony’s ears.

Tony hisses, cringing, but when Steve tries to pull back, he grits, “No, no, keep them there.” He does feel a little better now; his joints are protesting, but the rest of him is loosening up. He’s _exhausted_.

They stand there for what feels like forever—Tony’s grasp on the passage of time is feeble at best right now—and he starts to drift off with his head pressed into the dip of Steve’s shoulder, the burning in his ears slowly subsiding.

“Can we take this somewhere else,” he mumbles eventually.

“Sure thing, Tony,” Steve murmurs, and Tony nearly chokes on his tongue in surprise when Steve threads an arm between his legs and heaves him back onto the bed.

“Jesus, Steve!” He pushes one sweatshirt-swamped hand down over the arc reactor over his thumping heart. Steve grins at him apologetically as he crawls up the bed.

“Sorry to startle you.”

“Asshole,” Tony breathes and drops his head back. Steve pulls at the blankets underneath him and he shifts his hips, allowing Steve to pull them free. He draws the comforter up to Tony’s chin and then slides underneath next to him. Tony rolls over and latches on, tucking his hands under Steve’s body where they can soak up the most warmth.

“I can feel those ice blocks you have for hands through my _clothes_ , Tony,” he says.

“Y'know we do have a fireplace,” Tony says, “I’m sure J would warm me back up with a lot less complaining.”

“That would be so much more fun,” Steve says, tangling their legs together and pulling the hood up over Tony’s head.

“JARVIS and I always have fun, don’t we, buddy.”

“Certainly, sir,” JARVIS drawls, dry as dust, and Steve laughs into the shoulder of his own stupid sweatshirt. He kisses Tony’s chin, ignoring the scowl above it and feeds his hands up the back of Tony’s clothes, palms hot and soft as silk.

Tony breathes out in relief at how good it feels, goosebumps crawling over his shoulders and down his chest, chased by Steve’s hands up his shoulder blades.

“Don’t do something so stupid again, okay, Tony?” Steve murmurs into his throat. “You can’t go out in that little clothing this time of year.”

“I could go out in _shorts_ this time of year in Malibu,” Tony grumbles.

“But we’re not _in_ Malibu,” Steve says. “And the cold here can kill you if you’re not careful.”

“Don’t die, okay, got it.”

“Not if you can help it.” Steve moves so that he’s blanketing Tony’s body with his own, propped up on his hands, his blue eyes dark in the low, overcast light from the window. “I can help you get dressed, if you need me to.”

Tony swallows. “Yeah, sure, if you’ve got the time.”

Steve eases himself down, nosing at Tony’s jaw. “I’ve got time for you.”

Tony’s sure as hell not cold anymore.


	5. Steve and Tony are Stressed So They Cuddle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** None
> 
>  **Tags:** Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling, Stress, Stress Relief, Lack of Punctuation and Other Niceties, Alcohol Mention, Stressed!Steve, Established Relationship

they do a lot  
  
like, a lot, a lot.  
  
  
they’re superheroes, so y'know, there’s that  
  
saving the world and whatnot  
  
then on top of that there’s the constant stream of media appearances, television interviews and photoshoots and red carpet events and charity galas and newspaper (who even uses newspapers anymore for christ’s sake) interviews and it goes on. there’s an ebb and flow to them, ramping up whenever some megolomaniac destroys three-fifths of east manhattan or whatever, but there’s always something.  
  
and s.h.i.e.l.d. keeps them busy, harping tony for more tech (because whoever they got to do the helicarrier isn’t awesome enough, duh, he could have told them that) and riding steve’s fine, fine ass about his tight schedule of recruit-training. why they need captain america to train their recruits instead of some other lackey *cough*coulson*cough* is a mystery of the cosmos  
  
tony has SI to keep up with, even though he’s got a lot less irons in that fire these days  
  
and steve volunteers at the (all too frequent) reconstructions of the various decimated portions of new york, plus touring around to see the soldiers, which he’s much more comfortable with now he’s seen combat himself and he doesn’t feel like a poseur  
  
  
anyway, they’re busy.  
  
and mostly they handle it  
  
tony drinks a little too much sometimes and steve works out a little too viciously and with a little too much dedication (they seriously tried the drinking thing, like, no joke. tony, bruce, and steve stayed up all night one time pouring liqour of varying kinds and of alarmingly high percentages down steve’s throat, to little avail. they’d managed to make him sick, but not drunk. at least not for more than about six minutes, which, why bother, if a hellacious hangover follows in twice that. they’d all agreed it just wasn’t worth it), but overall they do okay  
  
  
then some weeks the gears are grinding and the drink isn’t enough for tony, or the work-outs aren’t enough for steve  
  
thankfully, tony’s rich enough that there’s not a lot of “basic existence” type shit they have to deal with if they don’t want to  
  
somebody else pays the bills and makes the food and most of the rest of it can be postponed or cancelled if they’re feeling really incredibly lackadasical  
  
not so much the world-saving stuff, but since the x-men and the fantastic four poked their heads out of the sand, even that’s gotten to do-able  
  
  
tony’s doing great this week, actually.  
  
he’s had late nights, but equally late mornings and SI’s doing fantastic by any metrics. pepper actually sent him a note of praise and rhodey visited for a whole day. his projects in the workshop are coming together and he’s pretty sure he’s going to be able to start setting up press releases for the Stark Ex-Utero device, which is something he’s been quietly working on for the better part of two years now. the Ex-Utero device will mean babies–-biological babies-–for sterile couples, trans couples, gay couples, or bisexual ones like…  
  
he sneaks a glance over at steve, heart thudding a little heavier against the arc reactor  
  
  
babies are not something they’ve talked about. not really.  
  
tony’s pretty sure steve’s just straight-up written it off. he’d once confided that it was a relief not to have to worry about passing on his blood and therefore the serum accidentally. the way he interacts with kids when they’re out though,  
  
that says different things  
  
  
but that’s a talk for another time  
  
  
right now, steve’s got that look, that milk-white, my-face-is-too-heavy-to-keep-in-place look  
  
even his hair’s disheveled, which tony should have noticed sooner. he frowns.  
  
the space between them is lit up with the blue and red framework of one of tony’s designs. the Ex-Utero device, actually, and if steve were anywhere but deep in his own head, he might have noticed, despite it’s exploded appearance.  
  
instead, he’s bowed over a lab table, shoulders rounded, and dark blue-hued smudges carved below his eyes by the light  
  
all the blue makes him look even more dejected  
  
tony flicks a trash-bin target out of his way and moves across the ‘shop, taking careful stock as he approaches  
  
but steve doesn’t look tense, just  
  
weary  
  
  
he’s holding a pencil and there are strokes on the pad in his lap, but he hasn’t even doodled anything, which is how tony can tell for sure he’s spent.  when he’s reduced to drawing what amounts to hashmarks over and over again, the strokes faint and following the natural curve of his moving hand, barely an inch long, that’s a Sign.  
  
“we can get more supplies, but conservation of resources seems more your style,” he says and steve stills. there’s a certain way that he does it when tony knows he’s managed to creep up on him–Sign Number Two.  
  
he looks up and pulls on a smile as hollow as a jack o'lantern and murmurs, “hey, tony.”  
  
tony covers steve’s hand with his own, warm and unresisting. his hand flattens, fingers losing their grip on the pencil. “hey,” he replies, because steve doesn’t like to talk much when he’s down like this.  
  
he does, however, take what tony’s offering.  
  
his free arm slides up around tony’s waist and he leans his forehead into tony’s ribs, breathing out a long, long sigh  
  
tony strokes the back of his head, because head massages always feel awesome  
  
it’s not easy standing there doing nothing. he thinks hard about all the things he could be working on and silently curses himself for not having invented a note-taking system that takes thought-commands, but he doesn’t go anywhere because he knows it’ll make steve feel better  
  
“you don’t have to,” steve says eventually, struggling to hide his reluctance to say the words.  
  
“let’s go upstairs,” tony counters.  
  
steve doesn’t even seem to have the energy to argue. he nods and refuses to let go of tony, sliding one hand under tony’s shirt so his pinky finger is tucked into the band of his jeans, his thumb stroking tony’s lower back  
  
it feels good and irritating all at once.  
  
  
contrary to the ambiance in the workshop, it’s still afternoon  
  
ribbons of golden sunlight are stretched across the floor in the penthouse. tony leads steve over to one of the couches facing out overlooking the city and says, “JARVIS crack a window.”  
  
“certainly, sir,” JARVIS replies.  
  
that’s not actually what he’s doing, because building codes–which he really should have fought harder against because it would be a hell of a lot more convenient if they could exit all the windows at least on the Avengers’ floors, god only knows how much glass he’s had replaced–but a second later a warm breeze snakes past, carrying the smell of tar and asphalt and hot metal and glass  
  
one of the bars of sunlight drapes over steve’s left side, an inch or so shy of cutting over his eye  
  
it turns his hair into spun gold  
  
god, he’s gorgeous  
  
  
“okay if I touch you?” tony asks, keeping his voice low  
  
steve’s eyes are closed and the more zen he can get the better  
  
“mm” steve says. tony’s pretty sure it’s a positive.  
  
so he touches, running his fingers through steve’s hair and smoothing it down, tracing the angles of steve’s eyesockets with the pads of his thumbs, following the folds of steve’s t-shirt with a fingertip  
  
the sun is warm and the distant honking and general hum of the city below is soothing  
  
he’s not even stressed and he feels loose and liquid after a few minutes  
  
steve slumps, but in a good way, the strain melting frrom his face  
  
tony licks his own lips, tempted by the pink swell of steve’s, but he holds onto the desire and just skims his fingers down steve’s arms, raising goosebumps down their length  
  
he smiles at them.  
  
steve turns over his hand, languid, his head dropped back and the long column of his throat exposed  
  
it arches so perfectly, tony wishes he could measure it  
  
instead,  he threads their fingers together and leans into steve, into the crook of his shoulder, which feels like it was molded just for his face  
  
he smells like irish spring and pomade and the faint warm metal smell of the workshop  
  
  
he unravels


	6. Tony is Secretly a Virgin and Things are Getting Hot and Heavy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** Sexual Content
> 
>  **Tags:** Language, Sexual Content, Virgin!Tony, Inexperience, No Actual Sex, Demisexual!Tony, past Tony/Pepper, Semi-Established Relationship

Steve slips his fingers under the waistband of Tony’s jeans, crowding him up against the wall and Tony makes a soft noise, hands growing hesitant on Steve’s waist. They’re both breathing hard, and Steve’s head is swimming. “Tony,” he breathes into his throat, “I want to— Can we—” His fingers spasm around Tony’s hips and Tony sucks in a shuddering breath.

His mouth is swollen and red and the sight of it makes Steve’s stomach flip. Then he licks his lips, dark eyes wide, and Steve’s insides shiver. “Uh, yeah,” he breathes. “That—uh— _fuck_ , Steve!” he gasps, arching against the thigh Steve has worked between his legs. “ _Waitwaitwait_ , time out, two seconds!”

Steve pulls back, hands stilling as he searches Tony’s face. Embarrassment washes over him. “Is that not—”

Tony shakes his head, but even as he does, he’s pushing Steve further back.

“Did I do something wrong?” Steve says, dismayed.

“No, god, no,” Tony says, running his hands through his hair. “This is amazing, _you’re_ amazing, and I am so looking forward to seeing what you’ve got packing under there, but, uh, there’s something we need to…” He sighs. “Talk about.”

Steve nods slowly. “Okay.” He watches Tony for another moment and then dares to glance around the room. “Do you…want to sit?”

Tony rubs one hand over his face. “Yeah, uh. Let’s. Let’s do that.”

They cross over to the bed and sit gingerly, Tony folding one leg underneath him, his foot tapping a sharp tattoo against the base of the bed. Steve waits, and when Tony doesn’t start talking, he glances down at his hands and says, “Can I…”

He reaches out, palm facing upward, and lifts his eyes to Tony’s.

Tony smiles, quicksilver and halfhearted, and puts his hand in Steve’s.

Steve curls his fingers around it and squeezes gently. “You can tell me anything, Tony.”

Tony huffs. “I know. And of all people, you’re probably going to take this better than anyone. It’s just—okay, here’s the thing. I’ve been kinda bending the truth a little about something.”

“Okay,” Steve says as neutrally as he can.  
  
Tony grimaces. “Maybe if I just blurt it out it’ll be easier. Yeah, sure, let’s go with that, why not, I’m not coming up with anything better so I’m a virgin, that’s interesting, huh?”  
  
Steve blinks. “You're—” He frowns. “Tony, how is that possible?” He blushes right to the roots of his hair and says, “I’ve seen videos.”

“Oh god,” Tony says, throwing up his free hand. “I know, I know, there are videos and websites listing my conquests and first hand accounts from satisfied companions and all of that shit, but the thing is, it’s all bullshit.”

“Bullshit?” Steve echoes.

“Yeah.” Tony sighs. He scrunches up his face, head tilting sideways. "The videos were staged. I mean, I doubt you’ve seen all of them, we’ve made like, thirty, over the years or something, but if you _had_ you’d notice that, uh, there aren’t any money shots. No penetration. Which, you know, is ‘cause there isn’t any, because it didn’t happen. Hollywood magic. And money. Lots of money.”

He glances up, mouth twisting into a wry smile. “Money took care of a lot of it, actually. It started in high school, when I bribed the head cheerleader to say she slept with me.” Tony shrugs. “You’d be amazed how many people are willing to take money for the privilege of _saying_ they slept with Tony Stark, even if it’s a crock of shit.”

“So you’re saying you bribed everyone into saying they slept with you? Didn’t anyone ever tell the truth? Didn’t anyone ever think it was _weird_?”

Tony snorts. “Oh, sure. But it’s not like anyone believed the few who told the truth—once you have a reputation, you have a reputation—and we made sure there was no proof. As for the participants, well, everybody expects a billionaire to have a few eccentricities.”

Tony traces his fingers over the backs of Steve’s.

“That all…makes sense,” Steve says carefully. “But I don’t understand. Why would you fake that? You seem so…”  
  
“Sexually available? That’s kind of the point.”  
  
“But why?”  
  
Tony shrugs. “I wanted to fit in in high school.” He looks down at their hands. “And I’m demi.”  
  
Steve’s brow furrows. “That sounds familiar.”

“If you’ve been reading about sexuality online, yeah, I bet it does. Basically it means I’m not the promiscuous type.”

“Oh, right,” Steve says. “You have to form an emotional attachment before you feel sexual attraction.”

Tony snorts and pokes Steve’s leg. “I knew you’d have read up.”

“So you’ve never had sex with anyone,” Steve says, marveling. His eyes trace the length of Tony’s body. “Did you ever want to?”

Tony laughs. “Whoa, danger Will Robinson.”

Steve draws him forward by their linked hands and nudges Tony’s cheek with his nose. “If I could handle you when I thought you’d slept with half the known population, I’m pretty sure I can handle it if you’ve only _considered_ sleeping with a few of them.”

Tony shivers and admits, “Yeah, once or twice.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Rhodey wasn’t interested,” Tony says, leaning into Steve, head against his collarbones.

“Rhodey?” Steve repeats in surprise.

“He was my boyhood crush,” Tony says. The sarcasm doesn’t wipe out the wistfulness in his tone.

“And Pepper,” Steve says, realization dawning.

Tony sighs. “Yeah, and Pepper. God, we got close. She spent years helping me create that reputation, but you know. Shit happens, blah blah blah. Why are we talking about my ex?”

Steve chuckles. “We can talk about mine if you want to even things up.” He laughs outright when Tony looks considering.

“Nah,” he decides at last. Then he eyes Steve, assessing. “But now I am curious about whether or not you’ve done the deed.”

Steve feels heat rise in his cheeks. He glances down at his lap. “Twice. Sort of.”

Tony’s eyebrows go up, one a little higher than the other. “Sort of?”

Steve’s blush deepens. “I fooled around with a girl at the orphanage once. We were curious and nobody liked either of us too much, but we got caught before…”

“Just the tip?” Tony says, grinning, and Steve pushes him back onto the bed with a growl, his face flaming. Tony pulls him along with him and Steve allows it, leaning over him on one elbow. Tony cocks his head. “So that was the 'sort of’. What about the not-so-sort of?”

Steve sobers. “Peggy,” he murmurs. “The night before we caught up to Red Skull we…” He swallows.

Tony curls his free hand around the back of Steve’s neck. “I’m sorry.”

Steve’s smile is sad, at first. “I used to be.” He meets Tony’s eyes. “Not anymore.”

Tony stares at him for a long moment and then grabs for the hem of Steve’s t-shirt. “Okay, that’s enough talking. _My body is ready._ ”

Steve laughs and leans down to kiss him.


	7. Tony Takes Steve Shopping for Clothes Just to Look at Him and It Goes Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** Clothes, clothes!kink, kissing, 40s-suit-wearing!Tony, Shopping, Lack of Punctuation and Other Niceties, Desire, OK i really love Thor in this tho, Pre-Relationship with a shift to Established Relationship

Steve wears what he wears because he doesn’t know what to _do_ with most of the clothes he sees in shops nowadays

it’s not like he’s particularly attached to his “style”

he tucks his shirt in and buttons it up because the nuns at the orphanage rapped their knuckles if they didn’t, and maybe it’s been more than ten years since the last time they did, but a thing like that sticks with you.

his shoes are good leather, sturdy and well-made—he knows they’ll last his whole life if he takes care of him the way his mother took care of his father’s

and maybe he picks sort of boring palettes for his clothes, but they’re for wearing not for decorating and he’s spent most of his life wearing a uniform or trading back and forth between the two pairs of pants and three shirts his ma could afford so he’s not picky

thor never complains about his wardrobe.

at least not any more than he complains about any one else’s, and it’s not so much “complaining” as it is “making fun of”

he mocks tony’s restrictive suits and the flimsy construction of t-shirts (they _are_ flimsy. the ones steve wore growing up didn’t wear out nearly so fast) and makes endless jokes about how midgardian people have to protect their royal jewels with undergarments because they constructed them with zippers in sensitive areas

steve’s seen static shiver from thor’s fingertips over the silverware he uses though, so he imagines things can get a lot more uncomfortable for the demigod than it does for most people

natasha judges him, silently, steve knows because he can feel it. she likes things sleek and black and as lethal-looking as she is, so that’s only to be expected, honestly

clint and tony both moan about how hopeless he is, clint buys him baseball caps and a six-pack of tank tops, but steve feels strange wearing the tank tops and he doesn’t like the way the hat looks. It’s no fedora.

Tony rakes his gaze over him and says, “Thank god you appreciate a good tailor anyway,” and Bruce understands his reluctance to branch out.

everyone seems to get used to it after awhile. occasionally someone will make a dig about his grandpa pants or joke about how he makes up for all the spangles by dressing as dull as he can all the rest of the time, but for the most part they seem to accept that this is how he dresses and that’s how he likes it

tony doesn’t seem to care what he’s wearing anymore, as long as he gets to tear it off once they’re behind closed doors

then tony approaches him one morning, tugging at his lower lip with his teeth, hands in his pockets and

steve stares

“ah,” tony says, eyes darting around, “so. so I wanted to talk you into letting me take you shopping and I, uh, just thought this might pave the way?”

he’s wearing wide-legged, high-waisted gray trousers and—and honest to God _suspenders_ , red ones, with a white shirt and a dark red tie with a curly gold decoration that steve just knows isn’t…

“tony,” he says, voice low and thick in his throat

tony’s eyebrows go up as he rocks onto his toes and back down onto his heels. “so…good choice?”

“you look…” steve says and trails off before he can find the words

it’s not that steve thinks tony looks _better_ dressed like…like this

because he’s always a knockout. he looks good in suits, in sweats, in that strange state of dishevelment that always occurs after a fancy event when he strips off his jacket and rolls up his sleeves

but there’s something about the way he looks…like _that_

that makes steve stomach flip

“okay, I didn’t actually think about the potential distraction this would pose. Steve. Steve, honey, eyes up here.”

Tony snaps his fingers and Steve jerks his gaze away from the narrow leather belt around his waist and feels heat flood his face. “sorry. yes, tony?”

“i am dressed like this,” tony waves at his attire and steve can’t help the way his eyes follow the motion, roving over him again, “because I wanted brownie points, so you’ll let me take you shopping, so I can dress you up like my own personal GI-Joe. Only with a wardrobe the size of barbie’s. I guess I could have just said barbie but—“

steve is already nodding. he understands suddenly why Tony’s always wheedling, trying to get him into jeans and printed tees like those ones he likes so much “okay. let’s go.”

tony stares at him for a second, frozen in surprise. “really?”

“really.” Steve gets up because he can’t just sit and look at him any longer.

Its tempting just to take him straight to bed.

he touches the shirt, swallowing at the way the fabric feels under his fingers, thick and a little bit stiff with starch—tony really went all the way.

“wow, this is really doing it for you, isn’t it?” tony says and steve nods again, then blushes.

“There’s just something about the way you look in these clothes. I…” he clears his throat and then glances down between them. “you said you wanted to go shopping. Are you….?” he looks meaningfully at the outfit and tony grins, eyes sparkling

“yup. all day.”

steve swallows again. “lead the way, mister Stark.”

~

tony doesn’t mess around.

he takes steve straight for the high end stores, but that actually turns out nicely, because it usually means they have plenty of privacy

that’s a relief, because steve feels silly taking the armfuls—literal armfuls—of clothes tony gives him and putting them on

he stares at himself in the mirror for a long moment after he puts the first outfit on.

Tony had picked out a dark long-sleeved shirt textured with a small square pattern and a pair of dark-colored jeans that fit his hips and fall down his legs not unlike the slacks tony’s wearing

the neck dips a little bit at the front and it makes steve’s neck feel strangely bare and vulnerable

he rubs sweaty palms on his thighs and then winces, remembering these clothes aren’t his own. Taking a deep breath, he prods open the dressing room door and peeks out. “um.”

tony immediately perks up, where he’s sitting in a lounge chair next to a floor to ceiling mirror, and drops his phone. He waves steve forward eagerly, with his whole arm.

this is what they’re here for, after all, so steve shuffles out

“oh, that’s nice,” tony says and sounds like he means it. “yeah, this is good, wow. really accents your skin, Steve.”

tony circles him, one hand skimming over steve’s ass and the other running appreciatively down the length of one of steve’s arms. “how’s it feel?”

“strange,” steve replies, honestly.

Tony nods like he expected as much and then bounces up on his toes enough to kiss the dip at the base of steve’s throat with just a flash of tongue.

it’s like lightning traveling straight to steve’s groin

“like that best of all,” tony says and then strolls back over to the lounge chair and drops back into it. “next.”

steve blinks and tries to think about anything other than tony’s mouth, and goes back into the dressing room

over the next few hours, tony ogles and steve tries on vests and sweaters and t-shirts and button-downs and strange jackets that don’t button up the middle but diagonally across the chest and pants that he nearly breaks his neck trying to get out of, he puts on a tuxedo, a three-piece suit, and a pair of leather pants that tony looks at covetously, but says would be stupid to buy

there’s been a low-level current of desire running all day

funny enough, it’s something simple that gets the biggest reaction out of tony

steve’s loosened up considerably since they started and this outfit is one he’s comfortable in. it’s cut a little different than he’s used to, but it’s one of the smallest differences he’s noticed. all he’s wearing are a pair of gunmetal gray slacks with a pair of patent leather shoes he can see his own reflection in, a crisp, white dress shirt, and an admittedly, beautiful blood red silk tie.

when he steps out of the dressing room, tony literally drops his phone.

he gapes for a second and then shakes his head and says, “You are _hands down_ the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on, no competition.”

then he moves forward and all but attacks the shirt, roughly rolling up the sleeves until they’re cuffed messily above steve’s elbows. He looks for a minute, eyes sharp, and then tugs on the tie, loosening it, and pops out the top two buttons of the shirt

“yeah,” he murmurs, and his eyes are dark and gleaming

he licks his lips and steve feels a sharp tug in his belly

his mouth crashes down on tony’s, opening instantly on a soft groan at the wet heat of tony’s lips and tongue. He can feel the shirt, the shirt tony wore just for him, rough against the side of his hand. Tony’s hand fists around his tie and holds on, and steve feels it in every inch of his skin

he’s breathing heavily by the time he manages to push tony back just a few inches and he pants, “i don’t have to take it off, right?”

tony shakes his head frantically, “i’ll give them so much money they won’t care”

steve laughs and nearly dips back into tony’s mouth.

His hand slides over the catch of the suspenders at tony’s waist and his legs go a little weak. “home,” he says, “home now.”

“yeah,” tony agrees, already consuming him with his eyes dark and hungry


	8. Tony is Tired, Steve Feeds Him and Puts Him to Bed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** Exhausted!Tony, Domesticity, Cooking!Steve, Curtainfic, Established Relationship

“What meal are we on?” Tony asks, blinking extra-wide as he walks into the kitchen, trying to make his vision less blurry.  
  
Steve is standing at the stove in his bare feet with a spatula in one hand and the handle of a fry pan on the stove in the other. He glances up at the question and his face crinkles in a smile that makes Tony’s insides turn to goo. “Supper.”  
  
That means it’s somewhere between nine-thirty and eleven PM. Tony looks down at the coffee cup in his hand. “So. Are you planning on bed soon, then?”  
  
The corners of Steve’s mouth curl up. “After I’ve eaten, yeah, I think so.”  
  
“I haven’t done that in a couple of days,” Tony admits.  
  
Steve flips the omelette in the pan. “Slept or eaten?”

“I ate this afternoon. I think. Slept, is what I meant. I could do that. Might be good.”

“Maybe,” Steve says and there’s a note of humor in his voice.

Tony shuffles over and loses the mug in the sink. “Can I have some of that?” he asks, edging over and tilting his head against Steve’s shoulder.

“Sure can,” Steve replies and Tony closes his eyes, totally helpless against the smile in response to Steve dropping a kiss on his head. He smells like soap and warm cotton and pomade. Tony leans harder into his shoulder and Steve huffs a laugh, barely shifting his stance in response.

It doesn’t take long before Tony’s drifting off with his face pressed into the muscle of Steve’s shoulder. He jerks awake as gravity starts to pull him toward the ground, adrenaline shooting through him like quicksilver. Steve pivots, his arm coming up to catch him and Tony grabs onto his shirt, blinking as he tries to figure out what the hell just hit him.

“Tony?” Steve says, concerned.

He reaches up and scrubs at one eye with the heel of his palm and mutters, “Fell asleep for a second there. Must be more tired than I thought. Or you’re more comfortable than I thought. One or the other.”

“I’m guessing the former,” Steve says and Tony likes the way it feels to have Steve’s palm cupped around his elbow, supportive, but not grabby. “You want to sit down? The food’s almost ready.”

“Yeah, that might be for the best if we’re both gonna remain burn-free.”

Steve smiles and lets Tony hobble away to the table, where he sinks into a chair and realizes just how _fucking_ sore he is. He rubs at his back and his knees and then starts to list a little to the left.

“Tony,” Steve murmurs and his eyes fly open.

“Huh? Wha—yeah, food’s ready? Awesome. Thanks.”

He’s barely aware of eating. Hell, he’s not sure how much he actually eats, because he nods off and wakes to the feeling of his head falling, Steve’s hand around his wrist.

“C'mon,” he murmurs and pulls Tony to his feet.

Tony feels him kiss the top of his head, and he’s vaguely aware of their trip to the bedroom, then there’s nothing but soft, cool sheets.


	9. de!serumed Steve snippets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:**
> 
> **Tags:** de-serumed!Steve, skinny!Steve, Asthma, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Sexual Content, Sick!Steve, Incomplete, Established Relationship, Insecure!Steve
> 
> these are just some bits i wrote after discovering that de-serumed steve was a thing awhile back

“Oh my god,” were the first words out of Tony’s mouth when he saw Steve. The second words were, “They weren’t kidding when they said you were small. I actually have to look down–this is crazy. I can see the top of your head!”

He was babbling, he knew he was, but it was a shock, okay, seeing the guy he was used to looking up at, used to overshadowing him easily, reduced to someone he could probably wrap his arms around and hide. His biceps were bigger than Steve’s hunched little shoulders.

Wait.

“Hey,” he said reaching uncertain hands to curl around Steve’s bony shoulders. It was strange without all the firm muscle filling his palms with heat, totally the wrong angle. God. This wasn’t–this wasn’t Steve.

Then the small blonde man turned his face upward and Tony swallowed down his panic, hands moving to cup Steve’s face. Different jawline, but the nose was the same–hilariously huge on such a small face–and Steve’s eyes. Those were completely unchanged. “There you are,” Tony murmured.

Steve colored and dropped his eyes, suddenly embarrassed. “So much for our plans, huh?”

No, yeah, okay, Tony thought, looking Steve over again. I can work with this. All the mannerisms were still there, recognizable, just a little reduced. Then Tony blinked, finally processing Steve’s words. “What? No, are you out of your mind? I’ve been looking forward to getting my hands on you all week.”

Steve flushed, a deep, familiar pink, eyes flicking up to Tony’s for a second before dropping to the floor again. He shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “You don’t have to… I know I’m not much to look at.”

“Well then I guess it’s a good thing I’m not as shallow as you seem to think,” Tony replied, softening the words by sliding a hand into Steve’s hair–still soft and thick–and coaxing his head back.

“Hell, Tony, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean–”

Tony shuts him up by kissing him and Steve’s hands catch around his wrists, gripping tight–probably as tight as he can, Tony thinks, and it doesn’t even hurt.

After a moment, his grip on one wrist loosens, his hand drifting around Tony’s back to pull him closer. He presses up on his tiptoes and Tony can’t help it, he grins into Steve’s mouth. “Now you know what it’s like.”

“Shut up,” Steve says and Tony realizes he’s panting. He frowns.

“Hey, I know I’m a fantastic kisser, but–”

Steve’s face has scrunched up, his brow furrowed and his hands white knuckled around Tony’s jacket. It’s starting to sound like he’s breathing through a straw.

“Steve?”

“A-Asth-ma,” Steve gasps and he’s white as a sheet. Tony is just working up to a real panic when Bruce elbows his way between them and shoves an inhaler between Steve’s lips.

“Breathe when I tell you,” he orders and Steve nods, still trying desperately to breathe around the device. “Now!” Steve seals his moth around the mouthpiece and breathes in. “One more,” Bruce says. Tony can see the instant it takes effect because Steve’s face starts to relax.

“What-what is that?” he asks, breathless and feeble.

“An inhaler,” Bruce says and presses it into Steve’s hand. “It contains medicine to help when you have an attack.”

“’S…amazing,” Steve mumbles and it’s Tony’s turn to push Bruce back. Steve looks ready to keel over.

“Jesus,” he says, ducking under Steve’s arm.

–

Steve’s only been serum-free _two days_ before he catches a bug.

“Oh Gob,” he moans from the couch, red-eyed and stuffy-nosed and milk-white, except for the streaks of crimson on his cheekbones. “Memory didn’t do this justice.” He closes his eyes and wheezes and Tony puts the tea he brought on the coffee table, nudging at Steve’s shoulder.

“C'mon, sit up,” he urges and, with his help, Steve struggles upright, his blanket spilling into his bony lap. Tony sits and stretches out his leg on the inside against the couch back, curling his fingers around Steve’s shoulder and drawing him back when he’s settled.

“F'rgot how awful ’s is,” Steve mumbles, sagging against his chest. His breathing sounds better when he’s upright.

Tony kisses the side of his head and wraps his arms around Steve, relishing the way Steve fits inside them so easily. He’s hot as a furnace, but Tony doesn’t mind, he wants to take this in, Steve’s original form, as long as he’s got the chance, because he knows they’re going to figure out how to get him back.

Steve’s eyelashes are just as long in this body and Tony watches them slide reluctantly shut. “Th'nks, Tony,” he mumbles, sagging against him even more. “You’re warm. Feels good.”

Tony snorts and murmurs back, “Shut up and go to sleep, you idiot.”   
  
When Steve does, boneless and snoring, his face turned into Tony’s bicep, he smiles.


	10. Tony Likes the Bruises He Left on Steve Last Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:**
> 
> **Tags:** Sexual Content, sort of? Mention of past sexual activities. Established Relationship, Sex Bruises, Morning After

Tony fits his fingers over the four soft dark shadows on Steve’s hip and a shit-eating grin splits across his face. “Look, look, Steve. These are mine.”  
  
Steve shifts onto one elbow so he can twist around to look at the slight sore spots where Tony’s fingers are and he smiles at the sight of Tony’s blunt fingers ringed by the faint purple of the bruises. “Sure are,” he says, stupidly fond. As if they’d be from anyone else. He reaches around to pat at his back. “Feels like I’ve got some here, too. Can you see?”  
  
Eagerly, Tony moves to his knees and leans over, hands skimming over the skin of Steve’s back. He makes a noise of triumph when he finds them. “These ones are streaks!” he says giddily. “It looks like you got mauled by a–well, by a billionaire, anyway.”  
  
Steve huffs. “How can you tell it was a billionaire?”  
  
“Flakes of gold everywhere,” Tony replies without missing a beat and Steve snorts into the crook of his arm. “There are more over here, wow, I didn’t realize I was so grabby.”  
  
“I did,” Steve says and sighs, a little zing darting down his spine at the memory.  
  
Tony bends close to his face, dark eyes sparkling. “You wanna see the ones you left?”  
  
Steve’s eyebrows go up. “Absolutely.”


	11. Steve Watches Tony in the Lab When He Feels Lousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** None
> 
>  **Tags:** Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Stress, Stress Relief, Stressed!Steve, Established Relationship, Tony in the Workshop

When Steve feels lousy, he goes down to Tony’s workshop and watches him work. He curls up on the sofa crammed into the back corner and drops his pad and pens down next to him (he brings them everywhere) and props his head on his arms and just watches.  
  
Some days Tony’s brow furrows deep in concentration, back bent as he works over one of the tables, his hands perfectly steady as he fits tiny parts into place.  
  
Others, the shop is dim, lit by the glow of the blueprints and interfaces of his displays, his fingers chasing around bits of light as he works, amusing himself with games built into his own system. The arc reactor is usually dulled on days like that by an extra layer–-so as not to interfere with the holograms.  
  
Still others, he wears grease-stained jeans and t-shirts for bands Steve is starting to learn the names and music of, his skin smeared in oil from time spent muscling large parts into place, tweaking and lubing and refining.  
  
Tony climbs on the furniture, oblivious to any danger or taboos. He lays on the floor, sits on the tables, and stands on the stools. He hangs upside down and scoots around on wheeled chairs, firing off orders and derogatory threats to his bots.  
  
When he gets distracted, sometimes one of the bots will come over and bump his shoulder and he’ll talk to them in quiet, contemplative tones, one hand stroking the side of the bots’ arm.  
  
Steve is pretty sure Tony is the most beautiful thing he ever laid eyes on.  
  
Some nights, Tony notices him watching and comes over, cocks his head. Steve leans in when his hand brushes the side of Steve’s neck and he breathes in the warm, sharp, bright scent of Tony. It steadies him, grounds him like nothing else.  
  
By the time he leaves, he always feels better.


	12. Someone (Tony) is Doing Nice Things for Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> duotoned answered: tony’s in love with steve but doesn’t tell him he just anonymously does nice things for steve bc he deserves to be happy, steve finds out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** Pre-Relationship, Kindness, Mild Explicit Language, Emotional Hurt/Comfort in a Way

Nice things don’t happen to Steve.

It’s not something he’s got a lot of feelings about, it’s just a fact, like the sky is blue and the Cubs are lousy at baseball. His dad died when he was a kid and his mom when he was a teenager, plus he was sick on the regular. He was poor and scrawny and got beat up a lot (though that was kinda his fault). Pretty much the best things that ever happened to him were Bucky and Peggy and they’re both dead now, too. He’s just used to it is all.

So when nice stuff starts happening, he notices.

First it’s little things, like fresh cream appearing in the morning after he’s used the last of the carton the day before. Then it’s a collection of take-out menus slid under his door with various items circled. The places aren’t too classy, so he assumes those are Clint.

One afternoon he comes rushing back from S.H.I.E.L.D. in a panic because he’d left his damn art supplies out and the last time he’d done that the cleaning crew that ghosts through had tossed out his chalks and he’d had to buy a whole new set. They’re gone and he’s just working up to a good string of curses when he spots his pad on the table, the new chalks all carefully put back in the plastic container which has been set on top. There’s a little hot pink paper card on top that reads in Sharpie’d block letters: DO NOT TOUCH.

He brushes his fingers over the set and wonders who took care of them.

After that it seems like there’s something new every day—his press packet for Japan edited so that it sounds natural, with jokes written in that Steve would probably make himself, a course catalog for NYU with a a pamphlet explaining the GI Bill and how Steve’s eligible for it and the paperwork and all tucked into the Art College section, chicory coffee that shows up in his cabinet one day after he laments about missing the stuff while the team is watching a movie the night before. That’s when he knows for sure that it has to be one of them, he’s just not sure _who._

Books he’s been looking for or on topics he’s mentioned show up on random surfaces, he finds his favorite sweets tucked into the pockets of his uniform and into drawers and cabinets all over the Tower, and when he puts his hands into his pockets before big press junkets, he finds a scrap of paper that just reads, in those same damned block letters: _You’re gonna do great._

_T_ hen one night he’s struggling to sleep, too deep in his own head, and he goes out to the kitchen to make himself a cup of something warm and sweet and finds Tony clearing out space in the freezer.

On the island behind him is a gallon of Steve’s favorite ice cream.

“What are you doing?” Steve says, before he’s even fully comprehended what he’s seeing.

Tony freezes, like a kid with his hands in the cookie jar, and blurts, “This isn’t what it looks like.”

Steve frowns. “This isn’t you clearing out the freezer so you can fit a gallon of my favorite ice cream?”

“No. I mean, yes, it is, but it’s not— There’s a lot of factors going into what you’re seeing right now, and it would be really great if you could just wander back to bed and forget you ever saw this so we can go back to before and, and… Steve.”

Steve is approaching the island and Tony seems very alarmed by that. His fingers are clenching around bags of frozen broccoli florets, his shoulders tensing. Steve himself has finally started putting things together. “It was you,” he says.

“Um,” Tony says, and swallows hard. Steve’s eyes follow the bob of his Adam’s apple.

“All those things, the pamphlets on things at the Guggenheim I wanted to see, the sweets. The NYU information?”

“I…plead the fifth?” Tony says, his voice going a little shrill.

Steve hesitates, because Tony doesn’t seem to want him to know about all of it. But that stuff’s been making his day for _months_ now. It’s pulled him up before he hit a bad low on more than a few occasions. He reaches out to touch the ice cream tub; it’s cold and wet, the frost starting to melt into condensation.

“This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” he says quietly.

Tony’s throat clicks. Then he rasps, “It just—it seemed like nothing was ever going your way. And…I wanted— You deserve to be happy, Steve.”

Steve’s throat tightens and his eyes close and he feels his forehead crumple.

He hears Tony make a strangled sound of panic. “Oh g— _Steve_.”

“Thank you,” Steve chokes. “You have no idea—” He covers his mouth, taking a second to try and pull himself back together. All this time it was Tony. After awhile he’d started to wonder if maybe it was the whole team, taking turns. It just hadn’t seemed possible that one person could be responsible, or could care so much.

But Tony, Tony with his dark eyes and his nimble fingers and his quicksilver grins. Tony had been behind it all, watching and listening, bringing Steve _so much_ happiness. All without ever asking for anything in return or even letting Steve know it was him.

“I'm—I’m glad it, uh, helped?” Tony says, uncertainty coloring every word.

“There’s only one thing,” Steve says and the uncertainty on Tony’s face fades, pushed back by an intent focus.

“Yeah, okay, no problem, what is it?”

“I wish you’d have gone with me.”

Tony’s head snaps up, his eyes bright and sharp. He stares at Steve for a long moment, like he’s waiting for a punchline or the drop of another shoe.

Steve looks down long enough to fish a spoon out of the cutlery drawer—just one—and holds it up. “You wanna help me with this?”

Tony starts to smile.


	13. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just-a-zombie-killing-ninja answered: stony-early morning after the first night they slept together? fuzzy and romantic and just so much in love?
> 
> ~
> 
> OMG I’M SUCH A SPACE CADET. it took me all day to realize this was your prompt *all the facepalming* well, thank you again for your sweet comment and i hope you like this!! let me know if i missed anything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** Mild Sexual Content
> 
> **Tags:** Morning After, Morning Wood, Experienced!Tony, Inexperienced!Steve, Morning Breath, Kisses

Steve wakes up with the sun on his face and bare skin under his hand.

He doesn’t move at first, taking a minute to drink it all in. He’s warm, and the body snugged up against his side paints a stripe of heat from his underarm all the way to his hip, but the air around them is cool. The muscles in his thighs and hips are sore, which is a surprise—that doesn’t happen often when he works out. Steve likes it, likes that he still feels it. It’s a good kind of ache.

He’d been understandably nervous last night, but Tony made everything easy. He was obviously more practiced, but he hadn’t made Steve feel like that was a bad thing at all. He’d been so gleeful about guiding Steve along without making assumptions and seemed to instinctively know when to joke and break the tension.

Steve’s a little embarrassed by how enthusiastically his body responds to the memories, but mornings are always touch and go.

Tony turns over languidly against his side and when he slings a leg over Steve’s hip, Steve bites back the sound that bubbles up in the back of his throat. “Mm,” Tony murmurs, “good morning, soldier.”

Steve smiles helplessly. “Morning, Tony.”

He turns his head and presses a kiss to Steve’s chest. Then his mouth slides open a fraction and he sucks at the skin before tilting his head up to brush his lips against Steve’s jaw. “You want me to take care of that?”

It aches, and Steve is painfully tempted to take him up on that, but he shakes his head and rolls to the side so he can look at Tony’s face. “Maybe later?”

Tony’s eyes crack open and he smiles, thumb tracing patterns on Steve’s side. “You sure?”

Rather than lie, Steve presses forward and kisses him, nose wrinkling at the smell of their morning breath. Tony huffs with laughter and makes it worse. So Steve slides a hand up Tony’s chest to his throat, hooking his thumb under the edge of his jaw and coaxing his head back so he can press kisses there instead.

Tony’s eyes flutter shut and he hums, willingly exposing more of his neck.

He’s beautiful.

Tony curls one hand around Steve’s and brings it up so he can kiss the knuckles one by one. Steve wants him like this always; loose and lazy, happiness crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Tony asks, voice a low, rasping thing that makes Steve’s stomach flutter.

“Sore,” Steve tells him honestly. “I like it.”

Tony’s mouth curls into a little grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, focused on the way his lips feel against Tony’s skin as he says it. Tony shivers and then props himself up on an elbow.

“No pain?”

Steve huffs and trails a finger around the arc reactor. “Nope.”

“Good. How’s it feel to be devirginized?”

“I was thinkin’ of calling a press conference,” Steve says, and laughs when Tony glares and pretends like he’s going to smother him with a pillow.

Then they’re kissing again, deeper and more heated, and Steve pulls him close, holding on tight. He’s happier than he remembers being in a long, long while.

Outside, the world drifts by.


	14. Gym Kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** Mild Sexual Content
> 
> **Tags:** Sweaty!Steve, Half-Naked!Steve, Banter, Humor

“Tony!” Steve calls the moment Tony walks through the door of the gym.

Steve’s rosy-cheeked and sweating from exertion, and also hanging from his knees on the pull bar at the far side of the room. His smile is bright and full of such genuine pleasure at seeing Tony that it makes something in his chest curl up a little bit around the sensation.

Tony drops his towel and starts toward him, calling ahead, “Fancy meeting you here.”

Steve grins at him and his naked abs ripple a little, glistening in the light as he shifts his arms to cross casually behind his head instead of lying tucked across his chest. Tony rolls his eyes, in spite of the frisson of heat that curls around his throat.

“Yes, you’re flawless, I know, do you have to rub it in?”

The expression of innocent surprise that dons Steve’s face is utterly contrived. “I thought you liked to show off?”

“I like to show _off_ not be shown _up_ ,” Tony corrects loftily, and curls his hands around the back of Steve’s neck. His skin is hot and slick and it makes Tony just a little bit hot himself.

"My mistake,” Steve says.

“I’ll let you make it up to me.”

“Oh?”

Steve’s eyes trail down Tony’s belly to the waistband of his track pants. Tony has to bite back a grin and the urge to pull himself up and find out if Steve can make him come before his arms give out.

“Not in the _gym_ , Rogers,” he says, faux scandalized.

It’s too hard to repress his grin when Steve’s expression turns sullen. “No way, Tony,” he says, “you don’t get to pull that crap on me after the places _you’ve_ started it.”

Tony bends forward so he can nuzzle at Steve’s throat. “Unfortunately for both of us, I have to get in a _real_ work out, or Coulson’s going to bench me. Us regular humans have to put up with quals.”

"You struggle so much,” Steve says gravely and then laughs when Tony squashes his face in retaliation. He lifts up using nothing but his goddamned abs and presses a kiss to Tony’s mouth. Electricity zips up and down the back of Tony’s neck in alternating currents. He kisses back, wet and hungry and absolutely _loving_ this new perspective on Steve’s mouth.

Then his nose bumps Steve’s chin and he pulls back.

Steve smiles at him, gaze warm and his pupils dilated. “Hurry,” he suggests.

“Aye, aye, Cap’n,” he replies, turns, and hits the mat face first, tripping over a foam roller.

Steve laughs so hard he falls off the bar.


	15. Bellybutton Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** Greasy!Tony, Half-Asleep!Tony, Kissing, Humor

Tony is lying on the couch in the common room, eyes slitted and aimed in the direction of the TV, but he’s clearly more asleep than awake. Steve knows this because he’s watching _Cake Boss._

His feet are bare, toes of one foot poking off the edge of one end and the t-shirt he’s wearing has ridden up to the middle of his ribcage. When Steve approaches, Tony’s head shifts minutely, his eyes flickering away from the TV. He makes a soft mumbling sound and Steve can’t help the silly grin that spreads across his face.

“Hey there.” He cards his fingers through Tony’s greasy hair.

Tony hums and closes his eyes.

That’s why he doesn’t see it coming when Steve bends down and presses a kiss to his navel. Tony’s bellybutton is an innie and Steve playfully flicks inside with the tip of his tongue, grinning when Tony gives a full body jerk.

“ _Jesus god!_ ”

He leans back to find Tony now looking at him wide-eyed, propped up on one elbow, his hand curled protectively around his belly.

Steve reaches up and plucks at the tip of his own tongue. At Tony’s quizzical look, he wrinkles his nose and explains, “Lint.”

Tony starts giggling and within seconds he’s laughing so hard he’s curled in the fetal position, arms wrapped around his waist.

_Worth it,_ Steve thinks.


	16. Three Sentence Fics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some three sentence fics written for prompts on Tumblr.
> 
> **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** Period Piece, Pre-Serum!Steve, Middle School, Notes, AU

Anonymous asked:

#  [1) Steve and Tony 2) Tony lives in the 1940s with Pre-serum Steve](http://musicalluna.tumblr.com/post/95022502265/1-steve-and-tony-2-tony-lives-in-the-1940s-with)

[17 August 2014](http://musicalluna.tumblr.com/post/95022502265/1-steve-and-tony-2-tony-lives-in-the-1940s-with)

Steve’s throat goes dry at the sight of Tony stepping through the doors at the movie palace in a brand new hat tilted at a jaunty angle, his grin knowing.  
  
Bucky elbows him in the side and mutters, “You’re _really_ into all that swagger?”

A flush starts to creep up the back of Steve’s neck, but he retorts, “It works for you, doesn’t it?”

 

\--

 

#  [1) Tony and Steve 2) Middle School romance (13 or 14 years old)](http://musicalluna.tumblr.com/post/95024875395/1-tony-and-steve-2-middle-school-romance-13-or)

[17 August 2014](http://musicalluna.tumblr.com/post/95024875395/1-tony-and-steve-2-middle-school-romance-13-or)

They’re not in the same class, because Tony is a Genius and is taking senior level classes (next year he’ll be going to MIT), but Tony’s seen him in the halls and his wide blue eyes make Tony’s stomach feel weird and squirmy.

So one afternoon during passing period, he catches him by the sleeve and slips him a note that reads: _Go out with me? Y N_

The next day he passes by Tony in the hall and presses the note into the palm of his hand, disappearing into the crowd while Tony scrambles to get it open; inside, the Y is circled in red.


	17. Tony Attends a Gallery Showing of Steve's and Learns Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> if you're still taking prompts, "I think you missed your calling", stevextony!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FICLET TWO, because you, lucky winner, chose a prompt i couldn’t figure out, then figured out too much for!
> 
> **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** Artist!Steve, Gallery Showing, Art Gallery, Pre-Slash, OFC, Revelation

 

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Steve says, and he looks pained. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I thought I submitted another piece.”

Tony rolls his eyes behind the goggles where Steve can’t see, and pulls back away from the armor, pushing them up onto his head. “Steve. Relax about it, will you? I’m not mad. I really don’t care.”

“You’re sure?” Steve presses. “You modeled for me expecting it to be a private piece, not an exhibit in one of the biggest galleries in town. I can ask them to take it down.”

Tony scoffs. “Please, I wasn’t even nude, and even if I was, been there, done that, got the lecture from Pepper. We’re cool, Cap. Let the people enjoy my visage.”

Steve sighs, but it’s a slightly exasperated sigh, and he sits back, slouching into the couch. It’s a much better look for him than the stressed out lean forward.

“We should go check it out,” Tony says, tilting his head to get a look at the wiring he’s been working on and brushing absently at a few metal filings on the finish. “I wouldn’t mind seeing what else you’ve got there.”

“Really?” Steve says and Tony is kind of offended by the dubiousness in his tone.

“What do you mean ‘really’? Yes, really. I want to see your work. Is that a crime?” Tony frowns at him.

“No,” Steve says, flushing, and stutters, “it’s not—it’s just—” He shakes himself and looks at Tony. “I’d like that. When would you like to go?”

Tony wipes his hands on a rag and then chucks it at DUM-E, who lets it fall to the floor. “Well, isn’t the opening tonight?”

 

~ * ~

 

The gallery is high class, Steve wasn’t joking about that much.

It’s all sleek black surfaces and flat white walls with carefully-positioned steel-brushed light fixtures. He’s glad he’d opted to shower.

All the works are good, at least as far as Tony can judge, which is not far—Pepper’s the art aficionado. He’s made his way around to look at everything but Steve’s work, saving the best for last. Steve himself is off to one side, answering questions about the works.

With one exception, Steve’s art is all in pencil. They’re sketches of everything from the Tower (really, ‘that big ugly building’ warranted a painstaking drawing? Tony’s calling bullshit) to a pretty cool little satirical comic panel. The exception is the center piece of Steve’s little area at the exhibit, and it’s the drawing he did of Tony.

The paper is gray, and about three times bigger than anything else he’s showing. Tony’s features have been coaxed into existence with white and black conte crayon (the sticks had looked more like chalk than crayon to him, but what the hell does he know?). Tony doesn’t get why Steve was so worried about it, the image ends at a fold of fabric near his waist and he’s wearing a black tank, so it’s not like an erotic nude or something.

It’s just him, sitting, eyes focused somewhere off the page. Most of the white has been used to create the glowing effect of the arc reactor, lining his features from below. Maybe that’s what Steve was worried about? But it’s a drawing, people will probably just assume Steve took some artistic liberties and merged Tony with the suit, which will probably get some interesting speculation about how Steve perceives _Tony_ , but it’s not going to affect Tony himself.

He shakes his head and lifts the champagne flute in his hand to take a sip when an older woman in an elegant gown and beautifully curled steel-gray hair turns to him and says, “I think you missed your calling.”

Tony blinks and then startles himself with a sharp burst of laughter. “You think?”

She smiles at him like she knows what he’s thinking about how, of anyone on the planet, he is probably not the one who missed their calling. “Well, the artist has certainly created a loving portrait of you. Every line emanates with warmth.”

This time, Tony’s startled into silence. He looks at the drawing again, at the delicate strokes that form his eyelashes, and the carefully rendered line of his jaw, the perfectly drawn arc reactor.

His heart starts to pound against the metal in his chest and he turns, catching Steve’s eye from across the room. Steve smiles at him, eyes warm and soft.

Tony looks back at the drawing.

“Steve’s in love with me,” he says aloud.

Beside him, the woman lets out a musical laugh. “I’d eat my hat, if he weren’t.”

“Holy crap,” he breathes, and starts to grin.


	18. Singing in the Kitchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked for: if you're still taking prompts, "I think you missed your calling!", stevextony!
> 
> **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** Music, Singing, Domesticity, Curtain!fic, Disgusting Fluff, Something Stupid, Making Dinner

A little known fact about Tony is that he does actually listen to music that isn’t classic rock.

Classic rock is just great engineering music.

But he listens to tons of other stuff too, so when Steve starts humming notes from “Something Stupid” while he chops peppers, Tony smiles.

Tony starts singing as he works on cutting up the beef they bought. “I know I stand in line until you think you have the time to spend an evening with me.”

Steve’s head comes up, surprise written across his features, which gives way to a smile. When Tony starts singing the next line, he comes in, a little shaky on the notes at first, but then hits the harmony just right and Tony grins as they sing together, “I know that there’s a chance you won’t be leaving with me.”

“Nope,” Tony says quickly, “no chance. Nobody but me.” Then he segues right into the next line, focusing his gaze on the meat in front of him. He can hear the broad grin in Steve’s voice and it makes something warm and fond glow in his chest right below the arc reactor.

Steve’s voice is pleasant and clear. Nothing spectacular, but being with the USO means he’s pretty damn good at hitting the right notes.

Tony’s own voice is an interesting contrast, kind of rasping and rough.

They both glance over their shoulders as they come to the chorus, “Then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you.”

Steve’s smile is small and private, filling Tony up until there’s no room left.

“Wow,” Clint drawls, “dinner and a show, fancy.”

“Think you missed your calling, fellas,” Sam says with a shit-eating grin.

Tony points his knife at them. “Welcome, gentlemen, we’ll be here all week, please tip your waitress.”

Steve laughs.

 


	19. Steve and Tony Make Out Secretively Like Teenagers (Oh, and There's a Clown Doll)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked for: "Where the fuck did that clown come from?" stevetony?
> 
> **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** Explicit Language, Clown Doll, Kissing, Playful Make-Outs, Humor, Sneaking

“Shhh,” Steve says, laughing into Tony’s mouth.

“Shh, me?” Tony whispers back, “shh, you! You’re the one making all the noise!” he chastises, and grins into Steve’s kiss. His fingers trace the lines of Steve’s ribs and he lets out another sharp burst of laughter.

Tony grins devilishly and presses his advantage, moving to press up against Steve’s front.

“Seriously,” Steve says, and one of his hands covers one of Tony’s, “what if someone sees us?”

“Nobody’s going to see us,” Tony scoffs, nosing at the soft skin where Steve’s jaw meets his neck. “We found a nice, secluded corner, everyone else is at the party…”

Steve’s head tips back and Tony’s not sure he’s aware he’s doing it; his eyes are closed, dark blond eyelashes fanned and fluttering against his cheeks. “Tony…”

“Steve,” he murmurs in return and kisses his neck. His hands slide down the broad expanse of Steve’s back, skim over the waistband of his jeans, and their next kiss goes a little awry when his hand encounters something tucked in the back pocket instead of an unobstructed path to the firm curve of Steve’s ass. “What’s this?” Tony says, more to himself than to Steve and tugs it out.

He jolts when he gets a good look at the thing and Steve groans, his hands clenching around Tony’s waist.

“What the hell!” Tony says, and hurls the demonic little thing away—it’s _grinning_ at him, with beady little black eyes and a tuft of unnaturally purple hair. He pulls back to look Steve in the face. “Where the fuck did that clown come from?”

“Hey, Tony,” Steve complains, looking after it. “The kids gave those out.”

“I don’t care if Little Orphan Annie herself gave It to you. Keep it a hundred paces away from me, capiche?”

“Didn’t know you weren’t a fan of clowns,” Steve says, bending forward to press a kiss between Tony’s collarbones.

“You _are?_ ” Tony replies. “That might be a deal-breaker.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Steve says, and hitches Tony up across his thighs.

Tony thinks he can be persuaded.


	20. Tony is Sick and Steve Takes Care of Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> polka-dot-princess answered your question:also now i really wanna bang out some more…  
> Sick Tony being cared for by Steve???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you!!  
> \--  
>  **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** Vomiting, Sick!Tony, Sickfic, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship

Tony’s whole back bows, his body lurching forward as he retches, hands braced on the toilet seat. He heaves and heaves, coughing and spitting in between his stomach’s efforts and Steve grimaces, resting one hand lightly on his back. There’s not much he can do aside from let Tony know that he’s here.

Eventually the spasms stop and Tony leans over the bowl, forehead resting on his forearm while he pants with exertion. Steve rubs his back in long, easy strokes and waits for him. He pushes to a sitting position with shaking arms and eases back slowly, like he’s worried he’ll start up again if he moves too fast.

“Here,” Steve says softly and offers him a wad of tissues.

Tony accepts them with trembling fingers and wipes at his mouth. He drops the tissues into the toilet and then flushes the whole thing. There’s a flush streaked across both cheekbones, but he’s otherwise pale and clammy-looking, sweat dampening his skin.

“Come on,” Steve prods and leans back against the tub. He tugs lightly on Tony’s waist, and Tony lets him, slotting in between Steve’s legs and drooping against his chest. “Drink this,” Steve says when he’s settled, and offers him a can of ginger ale.

Tony grimaces, but takes two sips before setting it aside. He curls up in the circle of Steve’s body, shivering, and croaks, “I don’t have to work tomorrow, right?”

Steve huffs and smooths Tony’s damp hair back from his forehead so he can press a kiss to Tony’s overheated skin. “No, you’re going to spend all day in bed.”

“Stay with me?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Steve agrees.


	21. Tony Falls Down the Stairs. Steve Makes It Better.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:
> 
> Fluffy prompt you asked for: could you do a mindless fic where Tony falls down the stairs or minutely injures himself in his lab and Steve fixes it with movies and popcorn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** Injury, Hurt!Tony, Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Banter

“Son of a bi—”

Tony’s arms shoot up in an effort to correct his balance as his foot skims off the edge of the step. The box of parts in his arms goes flying and he drops, hard, onto his ass, the sharp jolt of pain that spikes up his hip taking his breath away momentarily. He pitches down the last six steps, banging his elbow and feeling the skin scrape off his ribs. He lands face down in a heap at the bottom and groans pathetically, a thousand different little spots throbbing, though none worse than the left cheek of his ass and his elbow. He’s pretty sure he can feel his elbow swelling.

“JARVIS,” he croaks, “think I need—”

“Captain Rogers is alre—”

“Tony?!” Steve shouts from the top of the stairs and then presumably spots him lying at the bottom, because he swears and comes scrambling down, skipping at least half a dozen steps.

Tony groans and starts to push himself up.

“Tony, don’t!” Steve protests, “you could have injured your spine!”

While that’s possible, Tony thinks it’s unlikely considering it doesn’t hurt. “No, I didn’t,” he says, “bruised my ass and my pride, but my spine is just hunky-dory. Get me up off this floor, will you, so I can get some ice on this elbow. It’s gonna balloon, I just know it.”

“You’re sure?” Steve says dubiously.

“I am positive I would feel _something_ if I’d injured my spine. Come on, whippersnapper. Help an old man up.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but reaches to help him. Tony hisses as various and sundry battered spots on his body make themselves known. His neck and back remain mobile and pain-free. Or at least as pain-free as they ever get.

“Come on,” Steve says, “we’ll let the bots clean up this mess.”

Tony glances around at the parts scattered in every direction and says, “Ah, fuck it. I can work on that tomorrow. DUM-E, don’t blow the place up.”

DUM-E chirps back something that probably means _I’ll do my best to blow up everything_.

Steve offers his arm, which turns out to be a smart choice, because Tony’s limping. “This could lead to some rumors,” he says to Steve.

“I’ll manage,” Steve replies, dryly.

Steve helps him get to the couch and then eases him down onto it, ignoring the string of curses Tony spits into his shoulder. “Ice and Advil,” Tony hisses. “Lots and lots of Advil.”

Steve is a stingy son of a bitch and only allows him two Advil, but he brings back enough ice for Tony to wedge a bag under his throbbing ass cheek before wrapping another around his, as predicted, rapidly swelling elbow. He sighs. “Probably not going to be able to move this tomorrow.”

Easing down onto the couch next to him, Steve kisses his cheek. “Probably not. You’re gonna be lucky if you can move at all.”

“Pepper’s gonna be pissed.”

“I’ll handle her,” Steve says.

Tony leers at him. “I’d rather you handle me.”

Steve smiles and leans in. “I think that can be arranged.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well i didn’t quite get to movie and popcorn, but that’s their plan??? ^-^;,


	22. Jane Catches Steve and Tony Making Out and Muses About Their Relationship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:
> 
> If youre taking prompts: stevetony from another person's (or persons') POV? I love reading about them from another character's perspective. Even if you dont do the prompt, i love the work that you do! Great writing!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much, it means a lot to hear you say that!!!
> 
> also, this one is a twofer! it also incorporates this anon prompt:
> 
> steve and tony mushy cuddles on the couch UvU  
> \--  
>  **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** Making Out, Kissing, Outside POV, Jane Foster, Banter, New Relationship, Mild Explicit Language

Jane startles when she looks up as she enters the living room in the common space and sees Steve sitting on the couch with Tony lying sprawled across his lap.

Tony’s head is tilted back, hands waving enthusiastically as he talks and the smile on Steve’s face as he looks down at him is so affectionate she bites her lip and steps back. Neither of them seems at all aware that she’s here though, their attention wholly focused on the other. It’s actually pretty sweet.

Thor had mentioned that the two of them had recently started a relationship, but Jane’s never _seen_ them like this together. Tony’s pretty one-track-mind in the lab and they must be keeping their relationship quiet, at least outside their circle of friends because it’s been business as usual whenever she’s seen them outside the Tower. Really, she thinks this is the first time she’s seen them together _inside_ the Tower.

They’re all just so busy.

She hears a peal of laughter she doesn’t recognize and shakes herself out of her thoughts. Her mouth falls open in shock when she realizes that the laugh is _Steve’s._ She’s never heard Steve laugh, not once in the months since she’s met him.

Steve is a sweet guy, but he’s very serious. Sometimes it makes her sad just to look at him, because when he thinks no one’s watching he lets the stoic mask slip and the melancholy in his expression aches.

But apparently Tony can make Steve laugh. “…why are you laughing?” he’s saying, indignant, but with a note of his own laughter. “What’s funny? You don’t think I can work with a budget?”

Jane is impressed. Steve’s not bad looking to begin with, but with a smile like the one he’s currently lighting up the room with, she can really see the appeal. “I think that’s debatable.”

Tony scoffs in mock-outrage, one hand moving to press dramatically against his chest. “I’m a _businessman_ , Rogers.”

Steve’s eyes crinkle, lips pressed together in an effort not to smile. “Like I said: debatable.”

“You’re a son of a bitch,” Tony declares.

“Watch what you say about Ma.” One of Steve’s hands catches both of Tony’s wrists and holds them easily. He pulls them up above Tony’s head and leans forward.

Tony’s tongue darts out to wet his lips and Jane’s eyes widen. Oh. She should probably— “I take it back,” Tony says in a low voice and his toes curl against the cushions. “I take everything back, I repent, I was so very, very wrong. Yeah? We good?”

“I dunno…”

“Let me make it up to you.” Somehow he arches up enough to close the gap between them and Jane’s mouth forms an o as she watches Tony press his mouth to Steve’s and—is he _Frenching_ Captain America?!

She squeaks and to her horror, they break apart. Jane feels her face flood with heat as they both turn to look.

Pink splashes across Steve’s cheekbones and he hastily lets go of Tony’s wrists. He quickly swipes a hand over his mouth—already red and starting to swell _oh god—_ and stammers, “Uh, Jane—hi. Sorry. I’m sorry you had to see that, did you, um…”

Tony grins like a shark and folds his arms behind his head, settling back across Steve’s lap, which just makes him blush harder. “Hey, there, Foster.”

“Hi,” she squeaks. “Sorry I interrupted. I was just— I mean— Yeah. I’m just gonna—”

She darts out the door, mortified, and hears Tony call after her, “ _Next time take a picture, it’ll last longer!”_

Oh, _god._


	23. Steve's Reaction to Seeing His Serial Number Tattooed on Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:
> 
> STEVES REACTION TO SEEING HIS SERIAL NUMBER TATTED ON TONY THOUGH
> 
> theappleppielifestyle:
> 
> FUCK YEAH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *trips and falls*
> 
> –
> 
> **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** Tattooed!Tony, Tattoos, Possessive!Steve, Possessiveness

Tony means to tell him about it, you know, before he goes and gets it, but then there’s stuff and things and whatever—point is, it happens and he never actually gets around to mentioning it.

So that night he’s stripping off his shirt and the tender skin protests. He hisses and Steve looks up, brows sinking in concern. “Tony, are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure, I’m fine,” Tony says, and drops the shirt, twisting his head to peer at the saran wrap-covered tattoo just below his collarbone. It looks okay. A little red, and it could probably use a redressing, but it’s fine.

“Did you get a new tattoo?” Steve asks, moving closer, and that’s when Tony remembers he hasn’t said anything, Steve doesn’t know, and his brain sort of—switches off.

“Uhhhh.”

Steve nudges Tony’s shoulder with one hand, shifting him so that the light of the sinking sun falls over the tattoo, and his fingers, warm and large, move over the edges of the saran wrap.

Tony stares at his face, watches avidly the way he sucks in a breath when he reads it.

His eyes flick up to Tony’s. “Did you— Is this?”

Tony can’t help the way his mouth curls in a smile. “You know it is.”

Steve looks at it again, fingers skimming ever-so-lightly over it. Then he looks back up at Tony and his pupils have doubled in size, mouth hanging open, _hungry._ “Tony,” he breathes, voice sunk deep into his chest.

Tony lets his shoulders hop in a little shrug. “Wanted part of you with me, always.”

One of Steve’s hands cups roughly around the back of his neck, crushing their mouths together, the other hand still tracing the edges of the tattoo, sending tendrils of sensation straight to Tony’s core. “Mine,” he breathes, wondering.

“Yours,” Tony says.


	24. Steve and Tony Make-Out in Sam's Kitchen at a BBQ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:
> 
> prompt: Steve/Tony + Tattoos and parties at Sams house

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooo this prompt was yes so much yes  
> \--  
>  **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** Mild Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Kissing, Tattooed!AU, Insecure!Tony

Tony hasn’t been able to take his eyes off Steve all day.

They’re in DC, visiting his friend Sam who he’d—apparently—met just before the whole S.H.I.E.L.D./Hydra debacle for a fourth of July party that just happens to include a whole slew of presents for Steve. All the Avengers are here, plus a few of their satellites, and Sam is a remarkably great host. Tony is charmed, and he’s rarely charmed.

Anyway—Steve. He’d lit up like a Christmas tree the second Sam opened the door, and he’s been glowing ever since. He’s smiling and joking and laughing with his head thrown back so that the plumes of color that form his tattoo are on display, and it’s the most carefree Tony’s ever seen him look outside of their bedroom.

He’s happy that Steve’s happy, really, he is, but there’s a part of him that wants Steve all to himself, that wishes he could make Steve look like this all the time all on his own.

Tony slips inside to relieve himself halfway through the party, and when he emerges, Steve is in the kitchen digging around in the fridge. Tony lets his eyes slip over the curve of Steve’s ass, heat curling low in his belly.

Steve pulls a case of beer out of the fridge, the muscles of his arms sliding underneath curls and splashes of color. When he sets it on the counter, nudging the fridge closed with his hip, Tony pounces. He pins Steve against the counter, hands sliding up so that he can feel the ends of Steve’s hair on his fingertips. “Hi,” he breathes, and kisses him.

Steve’s smile curls against his lips and his fingers wrap around Tony’s waist, pulling him a little closer. “Hi.”

“You’re happy,” Tony observes in between kisses and Steve sighs a little.

“Yeah,” he says, sounding a little surprised. “I guess I am.”

“Sam’s a nice guy.”

“He’s great,” Steve says, immediately and with enthusiasm. “He’s really great, isn’t he?”

Tony huffs, pushing down the little flare of jealousy he feels, and noses at the curl of blue under Steve’s right ear. His next breath shivers somewhat and Tony smiles. “But you still think I’m great too, right?” he asks. It doesn’t come out sounding as much like a joke as he meant for it to.

“Tony,” Steve says, voice going low and serious the way it does when he’s about to say something he means with his whole being, “you gave me a place in the world, you’re _everything_.”

Tony feels his cheeks heat, and he ducks his head, holding Steve tightly for a moment. “Love you,” he whispers.

Steve turns his head and presses a kiss to Tony’s temple. “I love you, too.”

They stand there for a long time, Steve’s hand tracing gentle lines down Tony’s back—the same exact lines that cover Tony’s skin in fact, while the beers warm and drip condensation in pools on the counter. Finally, Tony turns and presses a kiss to Steve’s mouth, teasing at the ring of his lips with the tip of his tongue.

Steve makes a soft noise and Tony smiles, then starts to slide down his body. “I think now’s a good time for your present.”

Just as he reaches his knees, with Steve’s eyes fixed on him, pupils the size of dimes, the door to the backyard slides open. Sam says, “I _know_ ya’ll are not about to get with it in my kitchen.”

A flush races over Steve’s skin, blending with all the colors of his tattoos into new and continually intriguing combinations. Tony sighs. “Well, _now_ we aren’t.”

Steve clips him across the back of the head and Sam laughs.


	25. Tony Keeps Bestowing Steve with Domestic Kisses Unconsciously

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @thelostamazingcity said: Tony kisses Steve! Like, on the top of Steve’s head on Tony’s way out the door. Except they’re not dating (tho they sekritly want to). Lots of accidental domestic-type kisses Tony doesn’t realize he’s doing until Steve kisses him back!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** Kissing, Domesticity, Oblivious!Tony

The first time it happens, it’s half-past seven in the morning and Steve assumes it’s a coffee-and-sleep deprived accident.

Steve himself is sitting at the breakfast table, reading the news on his tablet and eating his second batch of eggs, when Tony wanders past in one of his nice suits, looking barely awake.

Steve smiles and props his chin on the heel of his hand, watching as Tony shuffles over to the coffee maker and bangs around, cursing. It takes almost two minutes for him to find and fill up a cup. Then he shuffles back toward the door, and as he passes Steve, he puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder and bends down. Steve goes still at the sensation of Tony’s lips pressing against the crown of his head, his goatee catching in Steve’s hair.

“M'rning, Steve,” he mumbles and then shuffles out.

~ * ~

The next time, it’s after midnight and Steve is lying on the couch in the common room, watching TV though he’s barely half-awake.

He hears footsteps, then a pause and a quiet mutter. The footsteps start up again, moving closer. Dimly aware that it’s Tony, Steve tips his head back to see him as he rounds the end of the couch.

Tony’s wearing an A-shirt and he’s covered in grease and grime, and there are a pair of goggles pushed up on his forehead, revealing dark circled eyes. “Oh,” he says, surprised. “Hey, Cap.”

Steve smiles. “Hey, Tony.”

“Thought someone left the TV on. Don’t stay up too late, huh?” Then he bends down and presses a kiss to Steve’s forehead.

Steve sits up to watch him go. Huh.

~ * ~

It happens again and again, early in the morning or late at night, occasionally during the day when Tony’s rushing to get somewhere. Tony kisses his cheek, his nose, his temple—once he even takes Steve’s hand and kisses the knuckles.

This time, Steve’s ready for him.

He sneaks off with Tony’s jacket, knowing he’ll have to come find it before he can leave and Tony does just that, rushing in through the door, yelling, “Hey, has anyone seen my jacket? I’ve gotta get out of here or Pep’s gonna have my head!”

“Here, Tony!” he calls, and his heart starts beating faster.

“How the hell did it get all the way out here?” Tony mutters, reaching for it. Steve stands and holds it out, stifling a smile at the expression of surprise that it garners. “Oh—hey, thanks, Steve,” he says, slipping into it. Then he turns and leans up on his toes and Steve knows this is it.

He turns his face just a few degrees and catches Tony’s kiss right on the mouth.

Tony gasps and starts to drop away, but Steve just cups his face and bends forward, chasing after him. He hopes this goes the way he thinks it might.

Tony makes a small, helpless noise, fingers clenching in the front of Steve’s shirt, but he doesn’t move a muscle to push Steve away.

When Steve finally pulls back, Tony blinks open dazed eyes. “Uh, wow, you— Really?”

Steve smiles and kisses him again softly, relishing the way Tony’s eyes flutter shut. “You’re ridiculous,” he says.

“Look who’s talking,” Tony replies weakly. Then he glances down at his watch and curses. “Shit, I’ve gotta—” He breaks away and bolts for the door.

Steve slides back into his seat with a silly smile on his face. A second later Tony skids through the door again, wraps his hand around Steve’s jaw, and pulls him into a deep, wet kiss. “Back for more of that later,” he pants, and then sprints out again.

Steve doesn’t stop grinning for hours.


	26. steve gets turned back into skinny!steve for a day. tony reacts.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> theappleppielifestyle asked:
> 
> prompt: steve gets turned back into skinny!steve for a day. tony reacts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** None
> 
>  **Tags:** Pre-Serum!Steve, Stephen Strange cameo, Insecure!Steve, Established Relationship

“A day?” Tony says, and Steve must be hearing things, because he thinks Tony sounds almost…dismayed.

“A day,” Strange confirms. “Perhaps they are very organized.” He pauses. “Or perhaps they did not really know what they were doing.” He peers at Steve some more. “Hmm.”

He disappears in a swirl of sparkling colors.

“That guy,” Clint says, shaking his head.

“Uh huh,” Tony replies, but his eyes are focused on Steve. Steve who’s five-foot-three again. Steve who’s shoulders are hunching under the attention.

He scowls at the ground. “Tony, will you stop starin’, I’m not some sideshow performer.”

Tony makes an affronted noise. “You think I’m staring because—oh thanks a _lot._ ”

“Bruce,” Clint calls over Steve’s head, “you wanna—that thing. Yeah?”

“Oh, right the thing, yes.”

“I also would like to do the thing,” Thor yells, following after them as they make a rapid retreat.

Natasha looks at them both. “Stark, I’ll kill you if you fuck this up. Steve—stop being an idiot.” Then she’s gone, too.

Steve and Tony stare at each other for a long moment, Steve crossing his arms over his bony chest. It’s strange how foreign the body he grew up in feels now.

“Steve,” Tony says.

Steve stares hard at the floor.

“Steve,” Tony repeats.

Sighing in irritation, Steve lets his head come up, “Yeah, what, Tony—mmfh.”

Tony’s mouth comes down on his, both hands cupping under Steve’s jaw. Tony pulls him close easily with one arm around his waist, pressing their bodies flush together. He kisses and kisses and kisses until Steve’s head is swimming and he’s hanging on to Tony’s shoulders for dear life because his knees have given out on him. Tony holds him up easily.

“I’m not looking forward to seeing you sick,” Tony says, in a low, rough rasp that makes Steve shiver. “But I am _so_ looking forward to getting to know the Before model of Steve Rogers.”

Steve is startled to see Tony’s eyes have gone dark the way they do when Steve really gets him going. “You’re actually still attracted to me.”

Tony gives him a dirty look. Then he reaches around and hooks his hands around Steve’s thighs, lifting him off the ground. Steve gasps.

“ _Incredibly_ ,” Tony replies.

Steve smiles, a warm, happy fluttering growing in his chest. He hooks his ankles in Tony’s lower back. “Twenty-four hours, huh? Guess we better get started.”

Tony grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> plz forgive me for any wild mischaracterization of stephen strange who i only know things about via tumblr


	27. #doctor tony flirting inappropriately with volunteering in the children’s ward steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #doctor tony flirting inappropriately with volunteering in the children’s ward steve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for pottsresilient. i saw this tag and couldn’t help myself  
> \--
> 
> **Warnings:** Sick Kids, Doctor AU, Doctor Tony, Candystriper Steve, Fluff, Mild Sexual Content, Paging Dr. Inapprops, Flirting, Mild Explicit Language

Tony is mildly surprised when he looks up from Bella’s chart (god, people are naming their kids after that godawful book’s godawful protagonist _why)_ as he enters the ward and sees a body that’s much too large to belong to one of his patients. The body in question is even bigger than his own and well-muscled enough to be impressive despite the paper-sack shape of the light blue volunteer smock covering it. Tony’s eyebrows rise as the man straightens up, with a giggle-shrieking Jayden on one shoulder. Hot damn.

Then he turns around, drawling, “Now, I wonder where Jayden got off to, I could have sworn I saw him around here somewhere…” and Tony feels a hot molten lurch, low in his gut.

The new volunteer’s eyes are blue and clear as the California sky and his jaw is strong enough to break rocks.

Oh, god, Tony’s waxing poetic, he’s going to get slapped with a sexual harassment lawsuit.

He lets his eyes travel from the guy’s carefully parted blond hair down over mile-wide shoulders to a tiny tapered waist, an ass that would probably cause a deadly ricochet of any bounced quarters, to clearly muscled legs, and decides that it will be so utterly worth it.

The guy starts to spin, making airplane noises and the non-libido part of Tony’s brain melts a little, too.

He clears his throat to distract himself and says, “Ah, hi, I don’t think we’ve met?”

Halfway through a turn, the guy looks up and blushes. _Blushes_. Really and actually _blushes,_ pinker than Tony thought was even possible in reality. It travels rapidly down his throat and Tony’s eyes follow it, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Um, oh, hi,” the blond says awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I’m uh, Steve Rogers. And you are…?”

“Doctor Stark,” Tony replies, and sidles a little closer. “You can call me Tony.”

Jayden whaps Steve a couple of times with his tiny little fists. “Steeeeeeve!”

“Oh, uh, sorry buddy. Give me a second to talk to Tony, okay?”

Jayden groans dramatically, but squeals with laughter when Steve pulls him over his shoulder, dangling him briefly upside down. “Hi, Doctor Stark!” he calls and scampers off to amuse himself.

“Hiya, J. Take it easy, okay, I’m glad you’re feeling good, but you gotta watch it.”

“Yes, Doc,” he drawls, exasperated.

Tony rolls his eyes and turns his attention to Steve, who’s fidgeting, huge shoulders hunched nervously. God, it’s cute. “So you’re the new volunteer, I take it? Unless you’re just some random schmo who walked in off the streets. Are you a predator? Do I need to call the police?”

“What?” Steve demands, aghast. “No! I'm— I'm—yes, the new volunteer.”

Tony grins. Oh, yeah, this is gonna be fun. “Relax, I’m pulling your leg. I wouldn’t mind pulling other parts either,” he mutters to himself, and Steve’s eyebrows flicker downward.

“What was that?”

“Huh? I didn’t say anything, no idea what you’re talking about, so tell me Steve, how long are you going to be joining us here?”

“Um.” Steve blinks, a little furrow digging in between his brows. “I’m not sure yet. A month to start.”

Tony smiles, all teeth. “Fantastic.” He curls an arm around Steve’s back and lets himself pat Steve's hip, _very_ close to that sublime ass. “I think this is the start of a beautiful partnership.”


	28. Steve Really Wants to Have Sex with Tony and Says So

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rendingrosencrantz asked:
> 
> Okay here's something with the potential for shmoop: Contrary to popular belief, Steve is not a stammering, blushing virgin. He knows exactly what he wants, and he's got his sights set on seducing Tony. Tony's in denial that Steve's not a 40-year-old-virgin and keeps trying to mess with him and is completely frustrated when he fails, but gets so caught up in trying to make Steve uncomfortable that it takes him forever to realize Steve's flirting with intent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IDK ABOUT SHMOOPY BUT YEAH
> 
> —  
>  **Warnings:** Sexual Content
> 
> **Tags:** Sexually Experienced!Steve, Subtlety-Is-Overrated!Steve, Obtuse!Tony, Humor, Steve Briefly Thinks He's Sexually Harassing Tony, Pre-Relationship

“Tony,” Steve says, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him, “I want to get naked with you. I want to touch you while you are naked and I would appreciate it if you would _also_ touch me while _I_ am naked. I want to have _sex_. Sex with _you_. Is any of this sinking in?”

Tony stares at him, eyes wide, expression blank. Steve’s a little bit worried he’s broken him. But it’s been _months_ and apparently Tony doesn’t even think he’s capable of making an innuendo or flirting so if Steve’s ever going to find out whether or not Tony is interested, this is how it has to be.

“Tony,” he says, tired. For crying out loud, he’s terrible at being hit on, it’s true, but only when he doesn’t _know_ the person. That’s weird. How has Tony not picked up on this yet?

“Sex?” Tony says finally, voice an octave higher than it normally is. His eyes drop to Steve’s mouth, which he decides to take as a good sign.

“Yes, sex,” Steve repeats. “Do you need me to be more explicit? I can. Some of the slang’s probably changed, but I’ll bet most of it hasn’t.”

Tony’s gaze snaps up to his, and his throat bobs a little. Steve barely resists the urge to rub his thumb over it. “I was just messing with you,” Tony says in a strangely choked voice. “Trying to get a rise out of you.”

Steve sighs. “Yeah, I figured that out.”

Then he thinks about what Tony’s just said and it hits him like the fist of a Frost Giant.

“Oh,” he says, and steps back, shame starting to creep up the back of his neck. “Oh. I’m really sorry, Tony. That was—that was inappropriate. I—”

“Steve—”

He turns and bangs his knee on one of the stools in his haste to get out of the lab. It stalls him and Tony grabs him by the arm.

“ _Wait,_ Steve, hang on. I didn’t— I didn’t mean I don’t want to, I meant I didn’t think _you_ were… I didn’t know you—”

“What,” Steve says, heart beating a little too fast, “you didn’t know I grew up in Brooklyn, didn’t know I was in the army?”

“Um,” Tony says.

“I need _you_ to be explicit,” Steve tells him. “Are you interested or am I making a fool out of myself?”

“I’m. I’m interested,” Tony says, fingers tentatively curling into the loops of Steve’s pants.

“You’re interested in fucking,” Steve says.

Just to be clear.

Tony’s breath catches, eyes going dark and hungry. “Yeah. Oh, yeah.”

Steve slides his hand over the fly of Tony’s jeans, earning himself a low, shaky moan. “Good. So am I.”


	29. Jurassic Park Fusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pagen-godess replied to your post“this is the last thing I should do, I have fics to work on, but OH…”
> 
> Because I’m a huge nerd. Stony Jurassic park au or steve and tony as paleontologists

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** Jurassic Park Fusion, Dinosaurs, Established Relationship, Kissing, Science Nerdgasming, Explicit Language

Up and to Steve’s right, Tony makes a noise like he’s been punched, and his hand flails backward, fingers flailing in Steve’s vision. “Steve,” he says, but Steve waves him off, staring at the frond in his hand in awe.

“This species shouldn’t be here,” he says. “This has been extinct for millions of years, how—”

“ _Steve!_ ” Tony says urgently and his fist wraps around the shoulder of Steve’s shirt and tugs.

“Tony, listen, will you? This doesn’t make any sense, this isn’t possible, these plants—”

Tony grabs his jaw and jerks his head up.

Halfway through pushing him off, Steve’s eyes catch movement on the horizon. Then he _looks_. And.

And…

Tony laughs, high and just shy of hysterical.

Steve’s knees turn to water under him and he crumples to the ground, still gaping at the pod of brachiosaurs meandering across the plain no more than half a mile away.

Laughing again, Tony drops to his knees in the grass at Steve’s side, fingers squeezing Steve’s shoulder. “Can you believe it? Can you _fucking_ believe it?!”

“Dinosaurs,” Steve mumbles weakly, and Tony kisses him, all teeth because he can’t stop grinning.


	30. come away with me (Tony is very stressed and Steve whisks him away to relax)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to write something short and sappy and @graviticphotons wanted kidnapping from duties after the long distance ficlet
> 
> voila  
> \--  
>  **Warnings:** None
> 
>  **Tags:** Stress, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship

Tony blinks in surprise when the  car door opens and Steve’s face appears in the frame. “Hey,” he says, surprised, but too tired to emote it properly. “What are you doing here?”

Steve reaches inside, holding out his hand. “I’m here for you.”

Feeling his brow furrow, Tony rubs at it. “Sorry, I'm—insanely tired. I’m confused. I have a meeting.”

“Not anymore.” Steve’s hand doesn’t move, his gaze steady. He lifts his eyebrows.

Tony stares at his hand.

To hell with it. He’s exhausted, he’s not going to be of much use to Pepper anyway. He takes Steve’s hand and Steve graces him with the smile that makes his knees go weak. A second later he’s out of the car, vision obscured by a deep umbrella.

“This can’t be safe,” Tony says when Steve straightens up and the umbrella still easily covers both their heads. Steve grins at him.

“Doesn’t need to be. We only have to make it to the door, then we’ll be in the clear.”

Steve swiftly moves him across the sidewalk, navigating by what they can see beneath the edge of the umbrella, thank god for the serum, and—where are they? Are they at a hotel?

They must be. Marble floors, spinning glass door, gold gilding.

“Steve?”

Steve kisses his temple and closes up the umbrella, which a staffer immediately offers to take off his hands. “Thank you, that’d be great,” he says. “Impromptu vacation,” he adds when he sees Tony still looking at him. “Just a few days.”

Tony swallows, strangely touched. He’s been feeling burnt out, sure, but it happens and he usually just pushes through it. That Steve _noticed_ and did something to alleviate it…

He swallows again, rasps, “Thanks.”

Steve squeezes his hand and leads him past the counter, straight to the elevators, which means he’s already got a key. God, he’d been _ready_ for this.

In the room, Steve guides him straight to the bed. Tony doesn’t even fight, he sinks down on it with a long sigh.

Steve undresses him one piece at a time; first his shoes, then his tie and his jacket, followed by his belt. He unbuttons Tony’s shirt, pressing kisses to the thin undershirt covering his chest as he goes. Then that goes too, Tony half-heartedly trying to help. His socks are last.

Tony reaches to reciprocate and Steve covers his hands, pressing a kiss to his mouth. “Rest, Tony.”

After that there’s nothing but the cool fabric of the sheets against his skin and Steve’s warm hands laying him down.


	31. Wrong Door AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** None
> 
>  **Tags:** Artist Steve, Awkward Billionaire Tony, Drunk!Tony, Meet Cute, Pre-Relationship

_WHAM WHAM WHAM_

Steve jolts, pencil skidding across the page at the sound of banging on his door. He glances down and sighs at the sight of a jagged black line cutting through the middle of the drawing.

“Rhodey!” a voice yells from the hall, and it’s perfectly enunciated, but rounded in the mouth. “Platypus, open up! Come onnnn, I know you’re home!”

Steve sets the pad aside and goes to answer the door.

“Don’t make me pick this lock, Sugarbear,” the voice threatens; a threat shouldn’t sound so charming. The knob rattles, and Steve pulls the door open.

He finds himself looking down at a man with wild dark hair and a pair of lock picks in his hands—he’s pretty sure those are illegal. “Excuse me,” he says as politely as he can manage, “but there’s no one by the name of ‘Rhodey’, ‘Platypus’, or ‘Sugarbear’ here, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mess with my locks."

The man gives him a wide-eyed up and down and then straightens up, smoothing a hand down his chest and easily vanishing the picks into a pocket. “Huh,” he says thoughtfully. “I could have sworn this was his door.”

“Not last I checked.” Steve looks at the numbering on the outside of the door. “Nope, still 3E.”

“Hey, would you look at that, it is an E.” He glances back at Steve and says, as though sharing a secret, “I was looking for 3D. Whoops.”

Steve leans on the doorjamb and crosses his arms, tries to ignore the blush that creeps into his cheeks at the way the man’s eyes trail over his biceps. “You ruined my drawing.”

Dark eyebrows pop up the guy’s forehead. “You draw? Are you any good? Let me see.”

Steve, befuddled by the fact that this stranger’s demanding to see his art after banging on his door at half past ten at night, merely says, “Uh—” and does nothing to stop him as he slips past into the apartment, sharp eyes cataloging everything in sight.

It only takes him a few seconds to spot the pad on the couch and he scoops it up, frowning at the line. “Hey, sorry, you weren’t kidding.”

He starts flipping through the rest before Steve’s spluttered protests can coalesce into actual words.

“Wow, these are good, is this what you do for a living? Shit, did I ruin something you’re getting paid for? I can pay for it. How much do you charge?” He carefully sets the pad back down and pulls out his wallet, and to Steve’s astonishment, withdraws what he thinks are several hundred dollar bills. He scans them and then looks up. “I’ve got eight hundred. Is that fair?”

Steve gurgles.

“No,” he says and shakes his head. “Of course not, well you take this for now, I know where you live now, I’ll bring another eight next time I stop by. Still probably not enough…” He glances mournfully at the drawing and says, “Shit, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine!” Steve blurts out finally. “It’s just a practice sketch. I don’t need your money, thank you, I mean, thank you very much, but that’s really not necessary.”

The man gives him a dubious look. “At least take the eight hundred.”

Steve very carefully does not think about how much of a load off his mind that would be and shakes his head. He hands back all but one of the bills. “I’ll take this, but no more.”

The man stares. “You are the worst negotiator ever.”

Steve’s smile is wry. “So I’ve been told.”

The man slips the money back into his wallet and Steve watches it go with just a little pang. He heads for the door, then stops abruptly halfway there and without turning back around says, “Actually, can I have it?”

Steve blinks. “The drawing?”

“I did pay for it.”

“We discussed reparations, not payment,” Steve corrects him and that’s when the man turns, a grin slipping across his face.

“ _Now_ we’re talking. Eight?”

Steve glances back at the half-finished and ruined drawing. “Four.”

The man gives him another look. “You’re supposed to negotiate _up_.”

Steve shrugs.

“Five it is,” he says, and before Steve can open his mouth, five additional bills are in his hands.

“Wait—”

The man rips the drawing from the pad with a deft gesture and waves the other hand as he strides out. “Toodles. See you around.”

Steve is left standing dumbfounded in the middle of his living room, six hundred dollars richer. Holy hell, he’ll have a little extra to put away this month.

A few minutes later, he hears the banging again, fainter this time from the floor below, and he smiles to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is weird. is this weird? tony’s weird right? or am I just weird.


	32. Local/Tourist AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** Coffee, Local/Tourist AU, Pre-Relationship, Banter

Steve is still staring at the menu when the woman at the counter says, “Hi, what can I get you?”

“Um,” Steve’s eyes dart across the chalkboards, but none of it makes sense. Some of the words are Italian and some of them are French and that one doesn’t look like it’s from any language Steve knows.

“Hey, what’s the hold up?” a voice says from behind him and Steve turns, a flush crawling up his neck.

A dark-haired man who’s a good half a head shorter than him is giving him a dirty look over the rim of a pair of chrome-shiny sunglasses.

“I’m sorry, I don’t really understand this menu—”

“Oh,” the other guy says, and then grins, his brown eyes gleaming with mischief. “So you’re a virgin.”

Steve ignores the way the blush is growing. “I just want a coffee,” he says firmly. Maybe a little helplessly.

The man leans around him. “Gimme a triple cappucino macchiato, Sarah.”

“No problem, Mister Stark,” the lady chirps, scribbling something on a tiny cup.

The man glances up at Steve. “You lactose intolerant? You like sweets?”

“No? Yes?”

“He’ll have a—” He gives Steve the up and down. “—venti cinnamon dolce latte, go easy on the syrup, it’s his first time.” He pats Steve’s shoulder while Steve watches on, dumbfounded. Then he hands over a black credit card and Steve comes to his senses.

“Wait—” he blurts, fumbling for his own wallet. “You don’t have to—”

“Shh,” the man says, and puts a finger to Steve’s lips. He has to reach up to do it. “I stuck my nose in where it doesn’t belong and now I’m being rude. Consider it an apology.”

Then he takes Steve by the sleeve and pulls him aside. Steve stutters out an apology to the woman standing in line behind them, though she looks more amused than anything and her eyes seem to be drawn to the man holding Steve by the sleeve.

“What about our drinks?” Steve says.

The man points at a high counter ahead of them, surrounded by panes of glass. “Pick-ups over here. You’ve seriously never been in a Starbucks before?”

“Grew up poor,” Steve tells him, matter of fact. “I’m on leave from the army and I’ve got more money than I really know what to do with. I thought I’d find out what all the fuss is about.” He waves a hand at the chalkboard menus. “I didn’t expect…all that.”

That garners a huff of amusement. “It’s not as complicated as they make it seem. Seventy-five percent of what’s up there is milk and espresso.”

“I know what those are,” Steve says and the man laughs. He looks good laughing. Steve drags his eyes away from the curve of his throat and holds out a hand. “Ma’d be furious if she knew I hadn’t introduced myself to someone who bought me something, apology or no. Steve Rogers.”

The man gives him a look somewhere in the realm of surprised. Then he smiles. “Tony Stark,” he says, shaking Steve’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

At the counter, a young guy calls, “’Ey, Tony, order’s up!”

“Thanks, Roy.” Tony scoops two drinks off the counter and then gestures toward the seating areas. “Drink with me?”

“Wouldn’t want to be rude,” Steve says and Tony grins, eyes bright.


	33. Shared Sensation Soulmates AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** Soulmate AU - Sensation Sharing, Angst, Explicit Language, Pre-Relationship

Tony’s been cold his whole life.

It’s just a sensation; his doctors have run hundreds of tests trying to figure out why he always wants to be overdressed or swaddled in blankets. His body temperature’s normal and his blood flow’s good, there’s no reason he should feel cold.

When they’ve exhausted themselves searching for a medical explanation, one of them finally, reluctantly, says, “It could be the Soulmate Effect.”

But that doesn’t make sense either. Tony’s soulmate is always, unrelentingly cold?

Howard declares the doctors incompetent and throws them out.

Tony’s used to the bite of the cold under his skin and he learns to deal with it. He learns to suppress the shivering and gets used to relying on other people to determine what “weather-appropriate” clothing is.

When he’s forty-three, he’s sitting in a boardroom listening to someone drone about the stock prices and doesn’t realize he’s loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar until Pepper puts a hand over his and mutters out of the corner of her mouth, “If you’re getting naked in board meetings now, I _quit.”_

“I’m not getting _naked_ ,” he protests, and tugs at his collar a little while trying to look like that’s not what he’s doing. “I feel—weird,” he admits and gets a suspicious side-eye from Pepper for it.

“Weird how,” she asks, focus returning to the speaker, who is _still talking,_ honestly, how much can there be to say about this shit.

“Like…” Tony gropes for words. He doesn’t know how to describe it. He feels less prickly, less brittle, like his skin is made to fit him instead of shrinking toward his bones. He feels— “Oh my god,” he blurts, and grabs his pen, swearing when the point bites into his palm. Everyone turns to stare. “Excuse me. I have to— Yeah.”

He scrambles to his feet and bolts out the door, patting furiously at his own skin when he’s out in the hall.

Unsurprisingly, Pepper is a few steps behind him. “Tony, what on earth—”

He whirls around. “I don’t feel cold.”

Pepper’s brow furrows delicately. “Okay…well—” And then she seems to realize. “ _Oh._ Oh my god, Tony. Has this—has this ever happened before?”

“No, never,” he says, and flexes his fingers, feels the softness, the space between his skin and bones, thickest in his chest. His neck doesn’t feel exposed and it’s one of the strangest things he’s ever experienced. “God, people feel like this all the time?”

Pepper huffs, though her posture is cautious. “What do you think happened?”

Tony shakes his head. Hell if he knows.

The transition is a nightmare.

He’s felt cold so long that even room temperature seems like too much. He sweats and shakes and makes JARVIS blast the AC until he’s shivering again. Over the next twelve hours, JARVIS dials it back down slowly.

Three days after that, Tony experiences the miracle of feeling nothing at all. He’s not cold, but he’s not hot. He’s just…comfortable, and that’s incredible.

“You still interested in consulting?” Fury asks him that afternoon.

“I’ve had a hell of a week,” Tony says, “but sure, what the hell.”

Fury snorts. “ _You’ve_ had a hell of a week.”

He doesn’t elaborate, just tells Tony to get his ass to the carrier, post-haste. Tony takes his time because he’s a bastard.

When he finally touches down on the carrier’s landing strip, Fury is waiting for him, a tall blond man with shuttered eyes standing a ways behind him. “Who’s this?” he asks.

Blue eyes turn to inspect him, and Tony can’t help but preen a little at the way his severe expression softens with interest and wonder as he looks the suit over.

“Stark, this is Captain Rogers.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Tony says, rolling his eyes. “Who is he really?”

Fury just raises a brow at him.

The blond man steps forward, expression serious again and holds out his hand to shake. “Steve Rogers. You’re Tony Stark?”

“I am,” Tony says, eyes narrowing.

Rogers coughs and shifts uneasily, slipping his hand into his pocket as soon as Tony lets it go. “Director Fury tells me you know who I am?”

“Uh huh,” Tony says and then amends, “Well, I know who he’s trying to pass you off as. Except that guy’s been dead for seventy years.”

Rogers scratches at his forehead and mutters, “I’d be inclined to agree with you, Mister Stark, but, well, here I am.”

Tony stares hard at him. “You’re telling me you’re _the_ Steve Rogers. Captain America, Steve Rogers.”

He smiles weakly. “That’s me.”

Tony jerks his gaze to Fury. “How the hell—”

Fury stares back at him. “Found him in the Arctic just last week. Defrosted him on Tuesday.”

Tuesday—

Tony drops the helmet and Rogers’ eyes go wide as it clangs against the deck. “Oh my god, you’re my soulmate.”


	34. Single Dad/Teacher AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for [ dont-panic--panic-and-youre-dead](http://dont-panic--panic-and-youre-dead.tumblr.com/)
> 
> **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** Parent Tony Stark, Single Dad AU, Teacher Steve Rogers, Kid Clint Barton, Kid Bruce Banner, Pre-Relationship

“Clint. Clint, get back here— Mister, if you’re not _right here_ in the next twelve seconds, I’m taking the bow. Yeah, you heard me.”

“Daaaaaaaad nooo!!” a tow-headed boy of maybe five or six shrieks, tearing through the room, pushing his way past the other parents milling around the classroom. His father is a man in a suit that looks like it cost more than Steve’s salary for the entire year, with a goatee trimmed to impeccably fine points.

“Thank you,” he says, when Clint centers himself on the spot where his father’s finger is still pointed. “Stay. Be good.” Clint harrumphs, skinny little arms crossed over his chest, his lip jutting out.

The father’s eyes roll and he sighs and looks up—and then turns a dusky shade of pink when he sees every eye in the room trained on him. “Hi,” he says, floundering for a second. Then he pulls on a smile, practiced, but convincing. His eyes find Steve’s across the room, and his next words are directed at him. “Sorry. Sitter cut out on me.”

Steve smiles, looking a little too long into the man’s dark brown eyes. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t think we’ve met?”

“Ah, no—” he says and then steps forward, gesturing with a flick of his wrist for Clint to follow when he doesn’t immediately. Clint sighs heavily and drags his feet along the carpet as he obeys. His dad holds out a hand to Steve. “Tony Stark. I’m—”

Steve’s eyebrows go up as he shakes Tony’s hand. “Oh. You’re Bruce’s father.” Then it’s Steve who blushes. “I’m sorry, I should have known, I mean, I’ve seen you in the papers, I think.”

Tony huffs, but instead of irritated, he looks charmed. “Probably about these rugrats.” He hooks a hand around Clint’s head and ruffles his hair. Clint groans. Tony flashes a grin that’s probably not as cavalier as he’d like. “Being a careless playboy has it’s consequences, but I can’t say things didn’t work out for the best.”

The warmth in his gaze and the fond, easy way his hand rests on Clint’s shoulder bely how truthful that is.

“Bruce is great,” Steve says, honestly. “I know this isn’t his favorite class, but he tries.”

Tony laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners, and Steve’s stomach flutters. “Yeah, no, Bruce isn’t much of an artist.”

“I, uh— I have to address the group,” Steve says, starting to turn, “but after, if you’d like, I can show you his work? And we can talk some more?”

“Yeah,” Tony says, smiling. “I’d like that.”


	35. Mechanic!Steve and Tony Flirt. A Lot.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [illustratedkate](http://illustratedkate.tumblr.com/post/94936628832/did-you-know-that-hot-mechanic-aus-are-the-most)'s [mechanic au drawing](http://musicalluna.tumblr.com/post/101645550920/notimpossiblejustabitunlikely).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [notimpossiblejustabitunlikely](http://tmblr.co/mODegQLptdzA0_drDdOX5VQ) i stalked your blog like a creeper to write you some feel-better fic
> 
> sadly it’s not much, but i hope it cheers you up a little  
> \--  
>  **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** Mechanic!Steve, Flirting, Amputee!Bucky, Pre-Relationship, Sexual Innuendo

****Tony doesn’t need a mechanic. He _is_ a mechanic.

And a billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, but that’s neither here nor there.

“Mister Stark,” the object of his attention drawls, and Tony’s eyes follow as he runs a rag between grease-blackened fingers. Plush lips curl into a smirk. “Back again?”

Tony smirks in return and lets his shoulders lift in a little shrug. “Pep’s car crapped out on her again, I’m just here to make sure you treat her right.”

Beside him, Pepper sighs, rolling her eyes. “Oh, please.”

The blond mechanic’s chin dips toward his chest, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. His head tips to the side and his long eyelashes go up and Tony’s breath catches in his chest as those baby blues meet his. _God_ , he’s scorchingly hot. “Well, it’s nice of you to look out for your employees like that, Mister Stark.”

“Oh, he’s looking out for someone,” Pepper mutters, but Tony’s fixated on Steve’s face and the gleam of mischief in his eyes.

He’s _teasing_ Tony. Hot _and_ snarky, shit. Well, Tony’s completely done for.

“Hey!” a voice calls across the garage. “Steve, what’s the hold up?”

The blond’s face floods with color and Tony watches it move across his skin, delighted. “I’m talkin’ with a client, Buck, gimme a minute.”

A man in a grease-stained tank top pokes his head out from around the end of a minivan and Tony can’t help but notice the extensive scarring where his left arm should be. He jerks his gaze away from it the second he realizes what he’s doing, hand moving to cover the arc reactor. The guy is looking at him with his eyebrows crawled up toward his hairline. “Hey, is that the guy you wouldn’t shut up about?”

The flush on Steve’s cheeks turns violently pink.

“Buck” grins like a demon and slips back behind the minivan, waving his hand. “Take your time!”

Tony grins. “You wouldn’t shut up about me?”

Steve groans and rubs a hand over his face. “I…may have mentioned you.”

“Well, Tony wouldn’t shut up about you after last time, so that’s perfect,” Pepper says. “Tony, take Steve to dinner.”

Steve glances at him, eyes hopeful, and Tony shrugs again, suddenly nervous. “How ‘bout it, Steve?”

He smiles and Tony’s heart turns over with a thunk in his chest. “I’d like that.”

“Fantastic,” Pepper says, “now will you please fix my car?”

After another few seconds of staring, Steve rips his gaze away from Tony, the color climbing into his cheeks again. “Yes, absolutely, Miss Potts. I’m sorry. I’ll have it ready for you by the end of the day, no charge.”

“That’s not necessary, but thank you, Steve,” she says and then takes Tony by the arm. “Come on, I don’t want you distracting him.”

“Wait,” Tony blurts, and fumbles a business card out of his jacket pocket, glad for once that Pepper always makes sure there are a few in there. He closes the gap between them in two long strides and reaches to tuck it into the pocket of Steve’s pants, lingering a little longer than necessary. Steve’s eyes go a little wide, eyes fixed on Tony’s face. “Call me,” Tony murmurs and Steve nods jerkily.

“Yeah—I’ll— I will.”

Tony grins and then Pepper’s hand is around his forearm again, pulling him away. He waves over his shoulder. “Bye, Steve!”

Steve waves back, still flushed and stunned looking. “Bye.”

Tony can’t wait till he gets his hands in that undercarriage.


	36. Out in the Country Backwoods, Steve and Tony Say Their First I Love Yous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** None
> 
>  **Tags:** Night, Fluff, First I Love Yous, Established Relationship

It’s weird at Rhodey’s place.

Too quiet. There’s no street noise, no ocean crashing, no sirens, no people. There’s nothing for a couple of miles except stretches of tall grass and drunkenly blinking fireflies. There are crickets, but it’s not the same.

Tony’s starting to get used to it though. It helps, having Steve stretched out in the grass beside him, a soft smile on his face, one hand tucked behind his head and the other wrapped around Tony’s. Tony can feel his heart beat against the inside of his arm, which is bent across Steve’s chest for him to rest his head on.

Steve looks beautiful, silvery moonlight playing along the curve of his cheeks, the sharp line of his nose. He looks happy.

If this is what it takes, Tony will stay like this forever.

“God, I love you.”

Steve’s eyes spring open even as Tony’s realizing what he’s just said. His stomach slingshots up into his throat.

Steve is staring, hands coming to cup Tony’s face very gingerly, his eyes going over Tony’s face again and again and again.

“I didn't—“ Tony starts, and Steve breathes, “I love you, too, Tony.”


	37. Bucky Helps Tony Make Steve Crazy Jealous So He'll Admit He Likes Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:
> 
> imagine a bit where bucky is practically all over tony, with his mouth on tonys ear, whispering ways to woo steve while steve is across the room staring daggers at bucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brandnewfashion:
> 
> HAHA THIS IS CRUEL I LOVE IT  
> \--  
>  **Warnings:** None
> 
>  **Tags:** Jealousy, Possessiveness, Bucky is a Good Bro, And An Ass, Mild Explicit Language, Tony  & Bucky Friendship, Pre-Relationship, Getting Together

 

“Hey,” Bucky says, flopping down onto the couch where Tony’s sitting. He lands close enough that their hips touch, his legs draped over Tony’s.

Tony glances at him and smiles. It just grows wider when Bucky leans in, snaking his arm around his shoulder. “What’s up, Tin Soldier?”

Bucky leans in, letting his nose brush up the length of Tony’s cheek. “You wanna get with Steve, right?” he murmurs.

Tony swallows, hesitates, and then nods. “Yeah,” he rasps. “God, do I.”

Pressing his smile into Tony’s temple, he says, “Good. Go along with me, all right?”

He can feel Tony’s heart starting to beat faster. “Whatever you say, Blue Steel.”

Bucky grins and turns his head so his lips are right against Tony’s ear, his hand at the crook of Tony’s neck. Behind him, he hears Steve come in.

He catches the sound of a faint gasp, a hitch in Steve’s steps.

“He’s into you,” Bucky whispers. “But he’s also a blockhead.”

“Yeah?” Tony says, a little breathy, hopeful. Bucky listens hard to the sound of Steve shifting in one spot, torn between the urge to stay and the urge to run.

“Oh yeah. Dumber than a brick. But he’s got a possessive streak. Say hi to him.”

Tony leans back a little and peeks around Bucky, says, like he’s just spotted Steve, “Oh, hey, hi, Steve.”

After a beat, Steve says stiffly, “Hi, Tony. Buck.”

Bucky turns and gives him a sunny smile. “Hey, Stevie.” He makes sure his hand around Tony’s neck is very obvious.

Steve’s jaw ticks, and Bucky suppresses a smirk.

“C’mon, sit with us, Steve,” he says and nudges Tony’s hip.

“Yeah, sit with us,” Tony echoes—good man, he’s got this.

Steve looks like he’d rather eat his boots, but Tony’s got his puppy eyes turned up to eleven and Steve’s so gone it isn’t even funny.

He sits stiffly on the couch next to Bucky.

Immediately, Bucky turns his face back into Tony’s neck. He can picture the twist of Steve’s face in perfect clarity. It’s not enough, so he blows gently at the short hairs behind Tony’s ear and Tony twitches, giggles.

“Buck, that’s enough,” Steve says severely.

“Whaddaya mean?” Bucky asks, faux innocent.

“Stop it,” Steve says. “You know I—”

He cuts himself off before he actually says it and Bucky smothers a huff of annoyance. _C’mon, spit it out!_

So he dives back in, pressing his nose to the delicate skin under Tony’s ear, whispering nonsense. Steve’s ears are too good for anything real at this distance.

“ _Dammit,_ Bucky!” he snaps, and a hand wraps around his arm, jerking him back. “It’s bad enough you went after my guy, at least keep it decent in front of me, would you?”

Bucky sits back, grinning triumphantly.

“Your guy?” Tony echoes.

Steve’s face is splotched red and white like it doesn’t know what to do, torn between embarrassment and horror. “That’s—I mean—Tony—”

“Does that make you _my_ guy?” Tony asks, cutting him off and Steve just keeps staring, gaping like a fish. Bucky taps his chin so Steve shuts his mouth and rocks onto his feet.

“Smooth, Rogers. You’re welcome, by the way.” Then he waves at Tony, winks.

“Thank you,” Tony says earnestly and Bucky grins at him.

“Anytime.”

He’ll let them work out the rest on their own.


	38. Sherlock AU/Fusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:**
> 
> **Tags:** Sherlock AU, Sherlock Fusion, Watson!Steve, Sherlock!Tony, Banter, Humor

“Wake up,” a voice demands, and Steve groans.

“Tony, leave me alone, I’m sleeping,” he grumbles and rolls over, pulling the pillow over his head.

“But I think I’ve figured out how Hammer was doing it!”

“That’s great, Tony, but I’m still sleeping. Come back in four hours.”

He hears Tony shuffle around the bed, muttering to himself. Then his footsteps pause and Steve sighs silently. Well, he got a few hours anyway.

“Steve, I really think we need to pursue this lead _now._ If we don’t—”

Steve throws the pillow at his head. “You’re buying me coffee.”

"…That’s fair.”


	39. Steve is a Cab Driver and He Picks Up Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence prompt - Stony, cab driver steve picks up drunk tony
> 
> — yolandaash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** AU, Cab Driver!Steve, Drunk!Tony, Flirting, Pre-Relationship

The man giggles as he does a controlled fall into the backseat. He smells like alcohol and expensive cologne and Steve doesn’t pay him much attention.

“Where to?”

“You don’t _know_?” the guy demands and Steve looks at him in the rear view, raises his eyebrows.

The man meets his eyes and Steve takes _notice._ They’re dark brown, gleaming with humor and mischief, ringed in dark delicate lashes.

“Hi,” the man says, voice low, mouth curling into a sliver of a smile. A shiver slips down Steve’s spine, sparking something deep in his belly.

“Uh.”

The man’s smile deepens, eyes crinkling. He reaches forward and pats Steve’s shoulder, just a little clumsy. “Stark Tower.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve says, throat clicking.

Eyes still on Steve’s face, he leans back, a bar of gold colored light falling across his face. “I think I’d like to give you a tour. If you’re interested.”

Steve’s heart stutters. “Yeah,” he rasps. “I’d like that.”


	40. Steve Wakes Up Still Exhausted From a Mission and Tony Thinks He is Too Cute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> moonlit-phoenix replied to your photo:if somebody tells me what to put in it I totally…
> 
> established relationship, steve comes back from a long mission, already slept for 12 hours straight and is still exhausted but came to the kitchen because it’s sunday and he needs to cook brunch but conks out instead over some cereal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** Exhausted!Steve, Physical Affection, Mornings, Bearded!Steve

Steve wakes up because his stomach is trying to eat itself.

He still desperately wants to be asleep, despite having slept—he cracks one eye open and peeks at the alarm clock on the bedside table.

And lets out a long slow sigh.

_Twelve hours._

He slept _twelve hours_ and he’d gladly go back to sleep right now if—ugh.

His stomach growls again and Steve pries himself up off of the mattress, grimacing as the sheet slides off his bare back, cool air raising the hairs all the way up to his neck. He chafes his hands up his arms and then slides into his slippers and shuffles over to the bathroom to get his robe from the inside of the door. With that wrapped securely around his body he feels a little warmer and he heads out to the kitchen to find something to eat, yawning into his fist.

The mission had taken place over the better part of five days, three of which had robbed Steve of sleep. He aches all over from the toll it had taken on him physically, though there aren’t many visible marks. He’d gone without food the last twenty-four hours, which his fast lane metabolism had not taken kindly to.

Steve smiles when the lights come up to twenty percent and mutters, “Thanks, JARVIS.”

“Certainly, sir,” JARVIS murmurs back. “Shall I put on the coffee?”

“Yes, please,” Steve says fervently.

While it burbles in the background, the scent wafting intoxicatingly around him, Steve leans on the fridge door and looks at what’s inside. There are plenty of eggs and bread and milk and dimly, Steve recalls that it’s Sunday and he’s supposed to make brunch for the fellas, but just _imagining_ going through the process of making French toast and frying the bacon and the eggs makes him tired and his jaw stretches wide in another face-splitting yawn.

He decides he’ll make it up to them and pulls a box of Cheerios out of the cabinet and pours himself a bowl. The coffee finishes about the time he’s added in the milk and he retrieves a mug of it before heading to the table and slouching into one of the chairs.

The coffee’s good and hot, bracing, and he makes it through half the bowl of cereal. Then his head starts to droop and his eyes grow heavy, the heat from the coffee seeping through the mug into his hands.

~ * ~

JARVIS lets Tony know Steve’s up, and he decides to take a break from the schematics review to go and see how he’s doing.

He smiles when he steps into the kitchen and finds Steve slumped in a chair, head lolling to the side. There’s a still-steaming mug of coffee curled loosely in his left hand, the other having slid back into his lap. The bowl of cereal next to it is only half-eaten.

Tony huffs and stands there for a minute, just looking at him.

His hair’s a mess, flattened on one side from sleeping on it and there are dark circles under his eyes. His jaw is scruffy, covered in a layer of vaguely reddish gold hair. God, he’s lucky.

Tony reaches forward and curls his hands around Steve’s jaw, running his thumbs over the line where the soon-to-be-beard gives way to skin. Then he drags his nails lightly through the scruff. “Steve,” he murmurs. “Steve, honey.”

“Mm,” Steve mumbles and shifts slightly, though his face doesn’t move a centimeter away from Tony’s hands.

Heavy-lidded eyes creep open and Tony smiles at the sliver of blue that peeks out. “Hey, there, Sunshine.”

The hand in Steve’s lap lifts to curl around Tony’s arm. “Hhmnony,” he mumbles eyes drifting toward the table. “B'kfast.”

“I see that,” Tony says, and drags his nails slowly down Steve’s cheeks, feeling the coarse hairs catch under his blunt nails.

Steve’s eyes flutter, rolling back in his head a little and Tony grins.

“You wanna try and finish, or you want to go back to bed?”

Again, Steve’s eyes crack open, surveying the half-eaten breakfast. “Bed,” he sighs.

Tony presses his smile into Steve’s cheek and follows it with a kiss. “That’s what I thought. Come on. Upsie daisy.”

Steve groans as Tony helps haul him to his feet. Then he curls his arm around Tony’s shoulder and shuts his eyes and leaves it to Tony to direct his heavy steps back to the bed. That trust is a beautiful thing, and Tony does the best he can to keep it.

In the bedroom, Steve folds into the bed, sighing as he sinks into the pillows. Tony sits on the edge, catching the hairs on the end of Steve’s chin gently between his fingers. “Love you,” he says, casually as he can.

Steve is already asleep, but his fingers, wrapped tight around Tony’s, say everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SQUISHY SCRITCHY FLUFF


	41. Librarian/Patron AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yolo, digging into my backlog  
> \--  
>  **Warnings:** None
> 
> **Tags:** Librarian Tony, Book Worm Steve, Flirting, Awkward Steve, Pre-Relationship, AU,

“Back again?” Tony says and grins when Steve—yeah, okay, he knows his name, he’d skeeved on his library card that one time, so sue him—starts and nearly drops the books in his arms. He blushes.

“Uh, hi, yeah, you know, there’s always new stuff, um.” Awkwardly, he slides the books across the counter, and then reaches up to scratch at his forehead. “And you’re here again.”

He winces as soon as the words are out of his mouth and Tony has to bite the inside of his lip to stop from smiling.

“Because you work here,” Steve mutters and covers his face with his hands.

The guy’s been coming into the Brooklyn Library at least once a week since Tony started working here. He’s impossible to miss with his clear blue eyes and pale blond hair. At first, that had been what had pinged Tony, but he’d been checking out the books Steve takes out (there’s not a whole lot else to occupy his attention) and he’d gotten curious. There have been novels trashy and literary, history books, art books, books on mechanics and sewing and self-improvement. Huge variety. And apparently Steve can just blaze right through them, because no matter how many he’s checked out, he’s back the next week to check out more.

Most people, it doesn’t matter to Tony what they check out. But this guy. This guy he wants to get to know better.

He wants to ask him what he thought about Dickens and why he’s so fascinated with the early twentieth century (he’s checked out every book they have on it at least three times, no joke) and why the hell he thinks he needs improving.

Steve brushes his hair off of his forehead after he digs his card out of his wallet and smiles sheepishly.

Tony catches his fingers when he hands it over and hears the way his breath catches.

“What’s say we make this one a transaction, huh, Steve?” Tony puts his hand on the books and follows Steve’s stunning blue eyes as they track the movement. “I’ll check these out for you, and then I’d like you to check me out.”

Steve’s gaze snaps up to his.

“Done,” he breathes, and Tony breaks helplessly into a face-splitting grin.


	42. Country Boys Cuddle in the Moonlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Tags:** Country Boys!AU, Summer, Cuddling, Small Town Life, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Established Relationship
> 
> **Warnings:** None

Steve’s pick-up truck is red, scuffed and rusty, dinged and banged up.

It’s a piece of shit and Tony loves it.

Summer nights like this, Steve drives the truck up the driveway outside Howard’s house, idling it along so it doesn’t make too much noise. Tony sneaks out and climbs up in the cab, grinning, eyes wild.

They drive out beyond the outskirts of town, splashing mud up behind them in huge plumes.

When they get out far enough, Steve parks the truck in a field and they wander out into the grass, flopping down when they find a good spot and stretching out on their backs. They talk about everything—Steve’s Ma and how she’s doing, how Tony’s prototype is coming along, Nat and Bucky’s “secret” relationship.

The moon is starting to sink down toward the horizon and they’ve been quiet awhile. Steve can feel Tony’s eyes on his face.

“What?” he murmurs finally, turning to meet Tony’s eyes.

Tony shakes his head. “Nothing.” He puts his hand on Steve’s chest, one finger tracing figure-eights over Steve’s heart, where his shirt is sticking a little because it’s hot and he’s sweaty. Eventually he looks up at Steve again and says, voice soft, “You’re the best thing that’s ever come out of this place.”

“You’re wrong,” Steve says, quiet and sure. He leans up on his elbow and curls his hand around the back of Tony’s neck. He looks him straight in the eye so Tony will know he means what he says. “You are the best thing that’s ever come out of this town, you hear? Don’t you let anybody tell you different.”

Tony seems to hear what he’s not saying, because his chin moves in a jerky nod. Then he ducks down and buries his face against Steve’s chest, heedless of the heat.

Steve pulls him closer.


	43. Steve and Tony Stargaze and Tony is Dubious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Tags:** Stargazing, Cuddling, Not-a-Fan-of-the-Outdoors!Tony, Reminiscing!Steve, Established Relationship
> 
> **Warnings:** None

“We’re gonna lay on the ground?” Tony says. “Why?”

Steve sighs, exasperated and fond. “Would you rather go home?”

“No,” Tony says immediately, and his eyes trace over the grass next to where Steve’s already seated. “I just—don’t understand why we want to be on the ground. It’s cold. It’s damp.”

“We can go home.” Steve starts to get up and Tony immediately catches him by the shoulder, dropping to sit next to him on the grass.

“No, I don’t want to go home, Steve, would you cool it—”

Steve laughs. “I’m not the one who didn’t want to sit down.” He leans in to kiss Tony and winds up kissing his throat because Tony’s busy looking around at the ground under him. “Tony.”

Tony’s gaze snaps up guiltily. “What? I’m good. This is great. Awesome even.”

Shaking his head at the obvious lie, Steve leans back on his elbows and smiles when Tony’s eyes slip down his chest and over his abs. He crooks a finger and gets Tony’s attention. “Lie down with me?”

Tony’s eyes sweep over him again, sending a curl of warmth through Steve’s gut. Tony nods and says distractedly, “Yeah, sure.”

Lying back on the grass, Steve props his head on his hands. Tony follows, pillowing his head on Steve’s bicep.

He sighs and Steve takes a second to enjoy the sight of him. Tony’s eyes are beautiful, dark and liquid, ringed in dark lashes.

“I’m still cold,” Tony mutters after a minute and Steve huffs, brings his arm down to curl around Tony’s back, pulling him flush against his side. Tony shivers, eyes going a little hooded.

So Steve runs his nose up the curve of Tony’s cheek, a grin curling his lips when Tony shrinks a little, giggling.

“Hey, knock it off, Rogers,” he says, but doesn’t sound like he means it. His fingers stroking lightly over the curve of Steve’s ribcage definitely don’t say “quit it”.

“We used to do a lot of stargazing back in the war,” Steve says quietly and Tony goes still. There’s no good way to describe it, but Steve knows that’s Tony giving him his whole attention. It never fails to send a rush of heat through him, pleased and honored and grateful that Tony’s willing to give him that so readily. Not many people have taken the time to really listen to him. And to have someone like Tony…

He swallows and rasps, “Wasn’t much else to do and I took a lot of the watches, since I didn’t need much sleep after the serum.”

Tony’s eyes turn toward the star-filled sky overhead. “Did you have a favorite?”

“Leo.” Steve points, chest squeezing when Tony follows the line of his arm to find it. He smiles crookedly. “It was pretty easy to find. It was nice. Something constant. There weren’t a lot of those then.”

“I imagine so,” Tony murmurs, breath soft and warm under Steve’s chin. He presses a soft kiss to Steve’s jaw that makes his eyes flutter closed for a moment. Tony is Steve’s constant now, but there’s something about connecting the two that makes his throat feel tight. His past and his future here together under the endless sky. “You know, I think I’m starting to get this whole experience,” Tony says.

Steve smiles.


	44. Steve Comes Back From a Mission With a Beard!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:  
> Not a prompt, just. Can I ask, what are your thoughts on Steve with CEvans' beard and your headcanon about the first time Tony sees it?  
> \--  
> omg i was dumb enough to write this in the reply box and lost the first version *headdesk forever*
> 
> but apparently my brain disagrees with you so yep here you go :D (slightly nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Tags:** Bearded!Steve, Sexual Content, Making Out, Lack of Punctuation and Other Niceties

the first time tony sees steve with a beard is after a long mission because steve prefers to be clean shaven. he likes the ritual and it gives him something to keep him grounded, makes it easier to be in the future.

so the first time tony sees it is after steve’s been gone for over a month and hadn’t been afforded the opportunity to shave and at first he doesn’t quite recognize him.

he looks exhausted and pale, but he smiles when he sees tony, mustache curving on his upper lip.

tony’s ever only sees him with a five o’clock shadow and the the hair comes in light colored, nothing like the reddish honey-colored beard he’s sporting now. 

whenever he’d imagined it he’d pictured something as blond as steve is. so he stares.

“hi,” steve says, eyes crinkling.

“hey,” tony says back, “hi. you’re back. i missed you. wow. you look–that’s interesting.”

steve’s eyes crinkle deeper. “good interesting or bad interesting?”

“weird interesting,” tony says, still staring as steve approaches. he reaches up to run his fingers over it when steve’s within arm’s length. it makes steve’s face look rounder, softer and his blue eyes that much more vivid. “wow. are you going to keep it?”

steve shrugs, eyes still drinking in tony’s expression. “i thought i’d leave that up to you.”

tony’s eyes go a little wide, and he runs the pads of his thumbs over the mustache. “really? i get to pick?”

“yep,” steve says, leaning in, eyes going hooded.

tony can’t help the noise he makes when their lips touch, fascinated by the feeling of steve’s beard brushing against his chin, catching in his own goatee.

they spend the next few hours making out, tony raking his fingers through steve’s beard and ending up with his lips rubbed raw

“so?” steve asks breathlessly, “what’s the verdict?”

tony leans across steve’s chest and says, “let’s think this through. a) we haven’t had sex yet, i kind of want to explore my lumberjack fantasies–”

“you have lumberjack fantasies?” steve says, amused.

“I have everything fantasies,” tony says, waving him off. “a) part two, i don’t know that i’m super keen on getting beard burn on my balls. on the other hand b) i’ve decided, and it is good weird, you are still appallingly hot. i’m torn.”

steve laughs.

in the end, steve winds up keeping it for a week and tony _does_ get beard burn on his balls and it’s _terrible_ , but he also gets to see steve look like a teddy bear.

he’s really happy to get the steve-face he’s familiar with back though, and it’s _really_ fun making out that first night after he shaves again when the skin is hypersensitive.


	45. Steve Makes Out with Tony Full Well Knowing Their Friends Are Coming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Tags:** Kissing, Mild Sexual Content, Playfulness, Humor, Steve is a Little Shit, Explicit Language, Hickies, Boners
> 
> **Warnings:** Tony says no a lot and Steve doesn't listen, but only because they're legitimately token protests.

Tony giggles as Steve pushes him up against the wall near the bar, mouthing down his throat. “Steve,” he hisses, laughter in his voice, “stop it. _Stop_. They’re gonna be here any second.”

“Not yet,” Steve murmurs, voice low and rough. Tony feels in in his chest and…other places. He giggles again, gasps, moans a little.

“You little shit,” he breathes and his fingers tighten in the back of Steve’s shirt.

He feels Steve’s teeth against his carotid when he grins. “Language, Tony.”

“Oh my god,” Tony replies and Steve laughs, a rasping sound that vibrates through Tony’s chest and shivers down to his groin. “Seriously, will you knock it off, they’re gonna get here and I’m gonna get in trouble for sullying your honor or whatever.”

“Who says I’ve got any left?”

His fingers tighten around the muscles of Tony’s ass and he jerks, hissing through his teeth. “Oh, god, I love you.”

Again, he feels Steve smile.

Then he rolls his tongue over the tendon in Tony’s neck and sucks the skin between his teeth. Tony’s knees give on him.

“That’s it,” Steve whispers. Tony just moans softly.

That, of course, is when the others show up.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Clint calls. “Break it up! None of that in the common spaces, come on, you guys!”

“This is like seeing my grandfather make out with someone,” Natasha drawls.

“Told you!” Tony pants and Steve lets out a breathless laugh. He squeezes one more time and licks over the mark no doubt blooming on Tony’s neck.

“Sorry not sorry,” he murmurs and pecks Tony’s mouth one more time before he leans back, blue eyes twinkling.

Tony sags back against the wall, not even bothering to try and hide the tent he’s pitching. “You are a menace.”

Steve just grins.


	46. Steve Comes Home Exhausted and Passes Out In Tony's Bed (Which Later Comes as a Surprise to Tony)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> vintagedemonglory asked:
> 
> I'm going to have to submit (late) a request for number 12 of Stony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Tags:** New Relationship, Exhausted!Steve, Said While You Were Sleeping
> 
> **Warnings:** None

Steve drops into bed after the mission without so much as a how do you do for JARVIS.

He doesn’t know where Tony is, and as much as he’s missed him over the past weeks, he’s exhausted and can’t bring himself feel more than a twinge of care. He’s run himself ragged and he’s out the second his head hits the pillow.

What feels like moments later, but must in actuality be hours—it’s dark where it was light before—he swims back up from the depths.

At first he doesn’t know why. His body is heavy, refusing to move and he can’t work up the energy to make it. He can’t go back to sleep without figuring out what woke him to begin with though.

That’s when he hears the shuffling in the bathroom.

It must be Tony.

A small part of him wants to really wake up, to see Tony and feel him close, but a much larger part of him is still dragging him back toward sleep.

He hears Tony murmur, “Lights off,” and then the sound of his footsteps coming toward the bed.

It shifts underneath him. Then Tony jerks. “FU—” His hand clamps down over the curse before it’s fully formed, Tony frozen in the bed next to him for a moment.

Steve wants to tell him he’s sorry, it’s okay, but it’s just too much effort. Their relationship is fairly new—just a few months. Maybe he should have gone to his own bed, even if he hasn’t slept there in over four weeks.

Then he hears Tony whisper, “Steve. Steve’s back.”

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS replies softly.

“Jesus, I think I almost had a heart attack. Is he—how is he? Is he okay?”

“Indeed, sir,” JARVIS replies. “He is physically well aside from a few minor injuries. I believe he is simply tired.”

“I’ll say,” Tony murmurs and that’s when Steve feels a hand on his shoulder, gentle and barely there. It moves after just a moment to brush his hair back off of his forehead and Steve feels sleep tug at him.  

“God, I’m glad you’re back,” Tony says, in the softest whisper. “It’s not the same without you.” He kisses Steve’s shoulder and Steve starts to float back down into the thick, tacky strands of sleep.

“I love you,” is the last thing he hears, so quiet he thinks he may have wished it.


	47. MCU Tony Meets Comics Tony and is J-E-A-L-O-U-S

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Tags:** Insecure!Tony, MCU!Tony, Comics!Tony, Humor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Crossover, Jealousy
> 
> **Warnings:** None

“Do you think he’s hotter than me?” Tony asks. He’s frowning, two lines drawn between his eyes. He has his hands tucked into his armpits and he rocks onto the balls of his feet once before he looks over at Steve.

They lock eyes for a moment before Tony’s gaze slips back across the room to where The Other Tony Stark is standing. He’s very nearly as tall as Steve, with a similar goatee to his Tony, which is strange, and eyes bluer than the arc reactor.

“Him,” Tony says. “Do you think he’s hotter than me. He’s taller. Younger—same age as you. Blue eyes. Who doesn’t like blue eyes?”

“Tony,” Steve laughs, but he sobers when he sees the tightness around Tony’s eyes. “You’re serious.”

Tony gives him a flat, unimpressed look.

Steve sighs, fond and exasperated, and moves over to cup Tony’s face, ignoring the way his jaw sets mulishly. “Tony, I like _your_ eyes. And your age doesn’t matter to me.”

“He’s basically me, but a better model. Why _wouldn’t_ you care?”

“Basically you is not you, Tony,” Steve says and kisses him, thumb stroking the nape of his neck. When he pulls back, Tony is looking up at him, dark eyes soft.

“You have terrible taste, Rogers.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to say it…”

Tony squawks and punches him in the arm.


	48. Skinny!Steve and Tony Meet at a Con

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @toriisahunter replied to your post“a no good very bad day”  
> THIS IS SO CUTE OMFG YES I LOVE IT OMG OMG OMG. CANT HANDLE THE CUTENESSSSSS. Also may I make a request? Some Stony where they’re geeks who meet at a con or something?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Tags:** Conventions, Cosplay, Skinny!Steve, Pre-Relationship, Non-Powered AU, Flirting
> 
> **Warnings:** None

There are about a gazillion and one people crammed into the events center and every fifth one or so is wearing a costume. Tony’s one of them. He’s wearing a fully operational replica of the Caterpillar P5000 Power Loader from _Alien_ and pretty much hasn’t been able to get anywhere without taking about a thousand pictures. He’d be mad, but, the suit is just that cool and he’s proud people recognize that.

He’s seen and take some pictures with a few Ripleys, but by far the coolest he’s seen all day is standing in front of him now.

He’s a little blond guy with mussed hair and a chest burster that’s so damn good Tony gags a little. It’s flawless.

The blood is freakishly realistic and Tony doesn’t know how the guy managed to make it look fresh, arterial red and keep it set all day. The chest burster itself gives him the creeps. Somehow, it looks like the thing is breathing.

“Wow,” he says, pointing, “that’s incredible.”

The little guy blushes and smiles bashfully. “Thanks.”

Then he gives Tony’s creation a long up and down and says, “Wow, back at you. That thing–”

Tony waves one arm of the suit, letting the hiss of the suit’s system say it for him and the guy’s expression goes even more impressed. “It actually works, wow, that’s amazing.”

“Tony,” he says, wiggling his hand free of the suit.

The guy’s smile blooms, pleased and surprised. “Steve,” he says, and slides his thin hand into Tony’s. He’s bony, but soft. “Nice to meet you.”

Tony hangs onto his hand when he starts to pull back and it’s worth it for the way he blushes. “Let me buy you a coffee. You can tell me how you got so good at make-up. ”

Steve fights back a grin, almost. “Okay,” he says, “and you can tell me where you learned to build robots.”

Tony grins. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”


	49. Tony drunkenly confessing his crush on steve (even though theyve been dating forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> veteratorianvillainy said: actually had a decent day until I got home? Then everything came crashing down bc gd forbid I take up any space in my own house XP literally anything with Tony. Like him drunkenly confessing his crush on steve (even though theyve been dating forever)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Tags:** Drunk!Tony, Flirting, Confessions, Alcohol, Established Relationship
> 
>  **Warnings:** None

“Steve.”

“Yes, Tony,” Steve says and can’t quite control the way his mouth twitches as he desperately fights off a smile. He and Tony are sitting on the couch with the rest of the Avengers scattered around the common room TV and Tony has, perhaps, had more than a few drinks.

“Steeeve,” he says, voice going a little whiny.

“Shhh,” Natasha says, but she doesn’t look away from whatever it is they’re watching. Steve hadn’t really been paying attention when it was selected. He’s not really paying attention now, because Tony’s alcohol-warmed face is pressed into his shoulder.

“Steve,” Tony whispers. “I have to tell you something important.”

Steve bites his lip. “Okay, what is it?”

Tony stares at him, eyes a little glassy, his fingers flexing where they’ve come to rest on Steve’s sleeve. “Steve,” he whispers. “I don’t– I mean, I—I have. God, this is embarrassing. I have the worst crush on you.”

Steve coughs to hide his laugh. He and Tony have been dating for almost five weeks now. “Oh,” he says, “wow, Tony, that’s great.”

“Jesus, we could have ended the run around months ago if we’d just got him wasted enough?” Clint says. Natasha clips him on the back of the head.

Tony blinks a few times and then turns an adorably puzzled expression on him. “It is?”

“It is.” Steve lowers his voice conspiratorially. “I have a crush on you, too.”

Tony’s eyes go wide. “No shit.”

Steve has to choke down laughter again. He nods. “It’s true.”

“Wow,” Tony breathes. “Can I—can I kiss you?”

Steve can’t help the fond, silly smile that spreads across his face. He cards his fingers through the hair on the side of Tony’s head and draws him closer. “Yes. In fact, I insist.”

Tony makes an adorable squeak as Steve hauls him forward the rest of the way, the noise fading to a soft groan as their lips touch. His hand lands on Steve’s chest, his mouth soft and wet and tasting of the strawberry daiquiris Clint had foisted on all of them. Steve’s pretty sure they had at least double the recommended amount of alcohol.

Tony’s kisses are sloppy, all his finesse gone under the influence, but all the passion, all the interest is still there. It makes Steve feel warm all over.

“Wow,” Tony breathes when Steve pulls back and Steve smiles at him.

“You’re really cute like this, Tony,” he says and Tony’s starry-eyed expression morphs into a frown.

“’m not cute. ’m sexy. Scorchingly, mind-blowingly sexy—”

This time Steve doesn’t stifle his laugh and he hauls Tony back in for another kiss.


	50. Steve had a random shitty day and Tony cuddles him to make him feel better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thelostamazingcity said: Oops. I forgot to say that I’d love something Steve/Tony. Maybe Steve had a random shitty day and Tony cuddles him to make him feel better?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Tags:** Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Bad Day, Established Relationship, Domesticity, Cuddling, Undressing
> 
>  **Warnings:** None

The day is just…it’s a trainwreck is what it is.

Steve wakes up to a comment on each one of the works in his online portfolio, and every single one of them has something awful to say. It’s like someone came by with the sole purpose of pointing out all of the things he’s weakest at. It starts the day off on the wrong note and everything just goes downhill from there.

By the end of the day he’s grateful just to get back to the Tower.

“Good evening, sir,” JARVIS says when he gets on the elevator and Steve rubs a hand over his eyes.

“Hi, JARVIS,” he sighs.

“Difficult day, sir?”

Steve almost groans. “Terrible. Just…terrible. I’ve had some worse, but not many.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, sir. Would you like me to let Sir know you are home?”

Steve grimaces. He’s not sure if he wants to put Tony through dealing with him right now. He’ll just disrupt whatever flow he’s managed to work himself into and it’s not worth it, just so he can be there to see Steve sulk. Then again, a hug from him would do a lot to improve Steve’s day. “Yeah,” he says at last. “Will you? Thanks, J.”

“My pleasure, sir.”

Steve exits the elevator in the penthouse and heads straight for the bedroom, undoing his buttons as he goes. He’s in the bedroom struggling to get his pants off when Tony appears in the doorway. “Hey. Hey,” he says, voice gentle, “JARVIS said you had a bad day?”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, hating how helpless he feels. He’s so off balance he can’t even properly get undressed.

That seems to be answer enough for Tony. “Shit,” he says, “that bad?”

Steve bites back the response on the tip of his tongue because Tony doesn’t deserve that. He shudders when Tony’s hands slide along his jaw to curl around the back of his neck. Tony kisses the top of his head.

“Sorry,” Tony murmurs and runs his fingers through Steve’s hair. “Let me help.”

He’s not doing great on his own, so he just nods. Tony kisses his head again and then backs up a little, pushes Steve to sit on the bed. He peels off Steve’s socks one at a time and then gets his pants off with just a few quick tugs.  “You wanna clean up?” he asks when Steve’s wearing only his briefs.

“No,” he sighs. No, god. He just wants to lie down.

“Okay,” Tony says and runs his fingers through Steve’s hair again, kisses the side of his head. “Bed?”

Steve scoots back up the bed, the softness of it welcoming and seeming to seep some of the tension out of his body. Tony crawls up with him. He smells like sweat and metal, but there’s something soothing in the warmth of it. Tony kneels next to him as he gets comfortable, helping pull the sheets up. When he’s settled, Tony strokes a hand down his back. “You want to talk about it?”

Steve laughs, but it’s a raw, rough sound. “I just want to forget it happened, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, sweetheart,” Tony says and stretches out next to him. He pauses, arm lifted to wrap around Steve’s waist. “Is this…?”

Rather than reply, Steve takes his hand and pulls it down around him,  pressing back into Tony. Then Tony relaxes, kissing his bare shoulder and squeezing him a little tighter. “Sorry you had a shitacular day,” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “me, too.”

Here and now, though, this is good.


	51. Steve and Tony Adopt a Corgi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lillkogobean requested steve and tony getting a corgi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Tags:** Corgi, Dogs, Dog Adoption, Established Relationship, Domesticity
> 
> **Warnings:** None

“Okay, okay hold on a minute, Copic,” Steve says, trying to catch his fingers around the bright blue collar around the tiny fluffball of a corgi he and Tony have brought back from the pound with them.

She’s ten months old and missing one eye and one of her front paws, but she doesn’t seem to have any idea she’s lacking. She’s wriggling so hard her whole body bows with the movement.

“We are not naming the dog after a marker, Steve,” Tony says repressively, and Steve finally gets his fingers around the clasp. He unhooks the leash and she takes off like a shot, zipping across the penthouse, all three legs scrabbling for purchase on the slick floor tiles.

Steve smiles after her and then looks up at Tony. “And your idea is so much better?”

Tony looks at him, affronted. “Kepler is a great name for a dog!”

Rolling his eyes, Steve stands. “Not any better though.”

The puppy comes flying back around, tongue lolling and a happy puppy grin stretched wide across her face. She tries to slow down as she approaches, but the tiles are too smooth and she skids right into Tony’s ankles. He laughs and drops down into a crouch, laughing again, louder when she jumps up on him, yipping and licking at his chin. “Oh, gross, I’m gonna have slobber in my beard,” he complains, but keeps scratching at her sides, his eyes crinkled with happiness. Steve smiles like a clown at the sight of them together. It’s nice, to see something that makes him smile so readily. “Who’s a good dog?” Tony says, and Steve suppresses a laugh at the face he makes, catching her face between his hands, “Who’s a good dog?”

She wags her rear so hard she slips out of his grasp and flops into an ungainly heap on her side. A second later she’s scrambled to her feet again, hopping around Tony ecstatically.

“It’s a good thing you go for runs,” Tony says as she takes off again, barking as she goes. “She’s got more energy than I do.”

“I’m going to have to take it down a notch for awhile. I don’t think she can keep up that pace,” Steve says, watching her slow down and start to take in everything in the room, sniffing with interest at everything.

Tony slides an arm around his waist and Steve draws him in, presses a kiss to the side of his head. “Does this count as our first kid?” Tony asks and his voice is light, but Steve can hear something serious in the question.

“I don’t know,” he says, “are you ready for that?”

Tony drags his soul patch through his teeth, glances at Steve for half a second. He shrugs. “I’m not…opposed.”

Steve contains the surge of love he feels, smothering down the urge to grab Tony and swing him around, knowing that will make him retreat. Instead, he lifts Tony’s hand and kisses the ring on it. “Kepler it is then.”

Tony looks at him, surprised, and then a smile spreads across his face, his eyes twinkling. “Oh, so that’s what I have to do to get my way?”

“That’s it,” Steve says cheerfully. Tony’s laugh is joined by the pleased barks of their brand new addition and Steve’s pretty sure he’s never been happier.


	52. College AU - Steve's First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:
> 
> i just had my first day of college and i'm feeling kind of overwhelmed already, so how about a cute college au?  
> \--  
> ooh, lucky, you’re gonna have so much fun. just breathe and let it all happen. :))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Tags:** Pre-Relationship, College AU, Nerves, Flirting
> 
> **Warnings:** None

Steve is an anxious ball of nerves the first day of college.

He’s away from his Ma for the first time in his entire life and even knowing Bucky’s here on campus with him isn’t doing anything to calm his nerves. He’s never taken drawing classes. What if it turns out he’s no good? What if he’s making the wrong choice?

He only has classes Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays and he’s not entirely sure how he’s going to remember that. He can’t get over that they’re not expected to go to class every day, the way it’s been for as long as he can remember. How can they learn everything they’re supposed to if they’re going to class just three days a week?

And as much as he loves Bucky, what if he doesn’t make any friends? Ma kept telling him to wait out high school, that he’d find his stride in college and meet his real friends, but, hell, what if he doesn’t? What if it really is him?

That’s the thought that’s eating at him when he heads to freshmen orientation and he ends up walking right into someone, nearly knocks them down, too.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he says, catching hold of their arms and pulling them back up. He can feel his face burning with a blush. “I’m _so_ sorry.”

“Chill, it’s fine, everybody’s running around like chickens with their heads cut off, I get it,” the guy says, and Steve’s throat goes a little dry when he looks up.

He’s dark haired and dark eyed, a few inches shorter than Steve. There’s something mischievous about his smile that Steve instantly likes.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats again, dumbly.

The guy’s smile widens and he leans in a little, eyelids slipping down to half mast. “Well I’m not. Hi there, Handsome. Tony Stark.”

Steve blushes even brighter. “S-Steve Rogers,” he stutters out.

Tony’s eyes gleam. “Nice to meet you, Steve.”

_Okay_ , Steve thinks to himself, confidence swelling under that gaze, _college. He can do this._


	53. Tony Wakes Up and Steve Convinces Him to Go Back to Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:
> 
> Shitty days are pretty run of the mill when divorce is a thing and parents act like they have the emotionally maturity of 12 year olds. For a prompt maybe some cute domestic!fluff, lazy sunday mornings?  
> \--  
> urghhhh yeah nothing brings out the childishness in parents like divorce. that really blows i’m sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Tags:** Morning After, Waking Up, Sleepy!Steve, Cuddling, Established Relationship
> 
>  **Warnings:** None

Tony wakes up to sunshine and the warmth of Steve’s body next to him, white sheets around his waist, leaving the wide, muscled expanse of Steve’s back for him to enjoy. He smiles to himself, still in the hazy place not all that far removed from sleep.

For a little while, he just lies there, eyes closing in blinks that last minutes rather than seconds. But eventually the temptation of all that skin so nearby gets to be too much, and he pries himself up, leaning over to deposit a kiss on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve snuffles a little, head shifting, and Tony just smiles wider. “Honey.”

Steve whines, a throaty little noise that never fails to delight Tony.

“Honey,” he whispers, and kisses the nearest shoulder blade.

The next noise is sullen, but Tony is nevertheless rewarded with the sight of Steve turning his head to peer at Tony with one vivid blue eye. There are red marks on his face from the sheets creasing against his skin and his hair is a disheveled mess. It’s glorious.

Tony grins at him and ducks down to kiss Steve’s cheek, chuckling at the disgruntled noise that earns him.

Steve’s arm snakes out and slides around his waist dragging him across the bed and under Steve’s bulk. “Why’re you awake?” he asks, voice rough with sleep and Tony shivers, loving the way he can feel it through his whole body. Then Steve buries his face in his throat, nuzzling to settle in. “Sleep,” he says, and his breaths wash over Tony’s collarbones, slowing and deepening once more.

Tony smiles and lets himself revel in the warmth of it all.

Yeah, he can sleep a while longer.


	54. Tony Inquires as to What Steve is Reading and They Both Get Touchy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> marvelingjules asked:
> 
> Hahaha my day was kinda shitty because my dad can't seem to go five minutes without complaining about something stupid, and my coworker called out sick so it was me all alone for yard duty today. Me vs 80 kinders for a whole thirty minutes at the start of my work day. Can I have a ticket of... Idk fluffy Steve and Tony? I have no idea what if I am sorry this isn't much of a prompt. :/ Just them being cute together, I guess.  
> \--  
> yikes that sounds awful and hectic, i’m sorry. :/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Tags:** Reading, Jurassic Park, Touching, Intimacy, Domesticity, Established Relationship
> 
>  **Warnings:** None

Tony wanders over, arms stretched above his head, and Steve looks up to drink in the curve of his body, the sliver of tanned skin that appears beneath the hem of his shirt, revealing a hint of the trail of dark hair low on his belly. Tony smirks when he catches his gaze and brings his arms down a little more showily than he would otherwise. “Whatcha reading?” he asks.

Steve turns the book so that Tony can read the title.

He immediately grins. “Jurassic Park, huh? Good choice. How do you like it so far?”

“It’s good,” Steve says and sets it aside so he can reach up and run his hands from Tony’s hips up around his ribcage. “I like the characters. We should talk about the science when I’m done.”

“Ooh, yes, we’ll get Bruce, he’d love to have that conversation. Bet you fifty bucks he turns green,” Tony says, running his fingers across Steve’s skull. It makes his eyes flutter shut and he leans his head into Tony’s stomach, breathing in the warm smell of him. The metallic tang is especially strong today.

“I love you,” he says, because he does, and Tony’s hands still for a second before returning to what they were doing. Steve tilts his head up and kisses Tony’s stomach.

“I love you, too,” Tony says softly.


	55. Theatre AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anthonyfuckingstark asked:  
> Sorry you had a sucky day! I had 6 hours of rehearsal bc my plays tomorrow and I'm working on hmwk that's four days late! If you want a prompt, how about an AU where --  
> thanks, hopefully my period will come soon and things will suck less

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Tags:** Theatre AU, Kissing, Fluff, Humor, Pre-Relationship, Nerves
> 
> **Warnings:** None

This is it. This is the moment Tony’s been waiting for for the last three weeks. Ever since he got the part and found out Steve was going to be the one playing opposite him.

But he’s a professional. He can do this. He can totally do this. He can absolutely kiss his co-star and not make it weird. Yeah.

“Okay, guys, let’s do the walk-through, shall we? Steve, you’ve got the first line, why don’t you go ahead?” the director says, and if Tony didn’t know better, he’d say the smile that she aims at Steve is more of a smirk, her eyes glinting, but he’s probably misreading it.

“S-sure,” Steve says and clears his throat.

Tony’s heart starts to race, the blood rushing in his ears so loud he can barely hear the lines as they read them. Then Steve is moving closer and he’s moving closer to Steve. And then…there. That’s the cue.

“And, kiss,” the director commands.

Tony swallows hard and sees Steve do the same, then his eyes are slipping closed and—oh.

Steve’s mouth is soft against his, that lower lip as plush and wonderful as it looked, his hands curving around Tony’s neck, the heel of his palm settling softly against the hinge of Tony's jaw.

He smiles tentatively when Steve backs off, a nervous little crease appearing between his brows. “Was that…?”

“Perfect,” Tony says and immediately feels himself start to blush. “I mean, yeah, this isn’t going to be a hardship.”

He melts a little inside when Steve beams at him, ignoring the snickers of their fellow castmates.

Steve leans in a little and says quietly, “I think we’re going to need a lot of practice.”

That’s when Tony knows he’s a goner.


	56. Water Gun War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lucy. my queen of beauty and prose and all writing things. my day has been terrible as well (went colr turky on antipressants, say whaaaat) anywho, i require your words to bring smiles to those with a love for steve rogers + tony stark as much as us. and i ask of thee, our boys waging war with nerf guns ... or water balloons. i love you, love.  
> \--  
> oof that does sound terrible i’m sorry. i love you too. <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Tags:** Water Gun Fight, Humor, Fake Guns, JARVIS
> 
> **Warnings:** None

“JARVIS, give me a sitrep,” Tony murmurs, pressed into a corner with his sliiiiightly modified SuperSoaker 3000 pulled up against his chest, one hand curled around the barrel.

“That seems unsportsmanlike, sir,” JARVIS replies in an equally quiet voice.

“I’m not going for sportsman-like, I’m going for winning,” Tony retorts.

If JARVIS had eyes, he’d roll them. “I believe the coast is clear, then, sir.”

“Excellent,” Tony says, and slinks out of hiding.

He’s hardly made it two feet when there’s a creak from overhead and then he’s being pelted with brightly colored balloons that burst on impact, soaking him from head to toe. When it finally stops, he blows a stream of water from his face, swiping his hair back out of his eyes.

“JARVIS, I am scrapping you, buddy. We are over.”

“Don’t worry, JARVIS, I won’t allow that,” Steve says and Tony glares at him. He grins, swaggering toward Tony with his own SuperSoaker held cockily in one hand. It’s hot, wildly hot, but Tony will not think about that, the bastard. “I told you you needed to learn a few tactical moves, Tony.”

“I hate you,” Tony tells him and squirts him in the chest. It makes his shirt go see-through and Tony ends up biting his lip.

“You sure don’t,” Steve says, moving closer.

“I— I—could. You turned my AI against me, you… You…” Tony trails off as Steve steps up close, looming over him, his tongue tying up in the back of his throat.

Steve just smiles and shoots him in the bellybutton.


	57. slow dancing in the communal living room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> theablackthorn replied to your post: all right ya’ll i have had wine and i want to…
> 
> Stevextony, slow dancing in the communal living room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Tags:** Established Relationship, Slow Dancing, Singing, Romance
> 
>  **Warnings:** None

The lights are down low, the TV off, and the common room is lit only by the soft glow emanating from the street below.

Tony is warm in Steve’s arms, guiding them in a slow, intimate version of a waltz, his temple resting against Steve’s cheek.

He smells like expensive cologne, metal, and something entirely undefinable. Steve breathes it in, swaying along with him and feeling it in every nerve from the crown of his head down to his toes.

Under his breath, Tony is singing.“Lovely, with your smile so sweet…” His voice is raspy, warm, and Steve strains to hear every note. “And your cheeks so soft, there is nothing for me but to love you…and the way you look tonight.”

Steve curls his hand around Tony’s lower back, pressing him closer.

This was worth the wait.


End file.
